


By Moonlight

by ohmyfae



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: F/M, Hint of OT5, May end up as Promlunoct, More characters and ships as they appear, Reincarnation AU, Sailor Moon AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-06
Updated: 2019-03-18
Packaged: 2019-10-23 09:39:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 20,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17681012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohmyfae/pseuds/ohmyfae
Summary: Centuries ago, the king of light sacrificed himself to bring back the dawn.Now, Noctis Caelum is a punk teenager living under his parents' considerable shadows. When he rescues the mysterious Carbuncle on the way home from school, he learns that he may in fact be a player in a story that stretches back throughout the centuries, doomed to repeat an endless cycle of betrayal, fear, and pain--Unless he's strong enough to fight it.(In other words, this is a 100% indulgent Sailor Moon AU.)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Oh yes, this is happening.

People always said that Insomnia was older than it looked. The buildings of the upper district always seemed a little patched-together, with new styles set in old foundations, statues that didn't match the apartments they guarded, and strange symbols etched over doorways and on the pillars by city hall. There even used to be a castle somewhere by the public park, though no one could get a permit to do any digging. Noctis Caelum liked to cut through the park after school, most days, imagining the ruins of an old castle sleeping under his feet, ancient and forgotten, carrying the memories of old kings and queens in its empty halls. He could almost see it. The entrance would be there, where the rosebushes gave way to the bike path, and the public gallery would be there, by the fountain, and the throne... Well, he could never decide where the throne went. Probably somewhere high up, where the king could look over the city. That's where _he'd_ place it, if he were king.

"Hey!"

Noct looked up from his phone. A woman in a black suit and tie waved at him from behind a line of yellow tape, which was tied between two slim, whippy trees. Noct squinted at her.

"Noctis?" Noct squinted harder. She had a black badge on her shoulder, the angular symbol of a sergeant in the Crownsguard. Noct sighed and headed over, slipping his phone in his pocket.

"Hey," he said. "Is Dad here?"

The sergeant smiled uncertainly. None of Regis Caelum's coworkers knew how to act around his son--Where Regis was tall and dignified, Noct was a slumping teenage disaster. Where Regis was well-spoken, Noct fumbled and clammed up in self-defense. No one who looked at them would have imagined that Noct was related to the decorated, well-loved, star captain of the district. He hunched his shoulders a little further, and the woman's smile grew strained.

"Your father's at the crime scene," she said, gesturing to a group of Crownsguard officers crowded together in the peony garden. "He said you might walk through. It looks like this one might take a while."

"Oh," Noct said. He stood up a little straighter, trying to see his father through the crowd. "Can you say what happened?"

"It's on the news, so I don't see why not. It's that vigilante nonsense again," the woman said. She rolled her eyes. "The Princess strikes again."

Noct forced his expression not to change. "Huh. Really? What'd she do this time?"

"Can't say," the woman said. "You'll be okay walking home?"

Noct narrowed his eyes. "I'm fifteen," he said. When the woman didn't respond, he sighed. "Yeah, I'll be fine. Tell Dad I'll order dinner for him."

"Stay safe," the woman said, and Noct gave her a half-hearted wave, trudging his way across the grass. Of course his dad was going to be late again. Every time the Princess showed up, wearing her white mask and ridiculous puffy ballgown, Noct's dad spent the next few days scouring the city, looking for clues. No one should take justice into their own hands, he'd said, when Noct complained last time. The Princess was just a criminal, ignoring due process to enact her own version of justice.

Which was why Noct didn't tell him about the newspaper article he kept under his bed. It was the only article with an actual picture of the Princess on it, blurry and indistinct as it was. Her hair was in her face, and her dress was hitched up at the waist so she could run faster, her white leggings flashing against the dark alley behind her. She was laughing, and beautiful, and if Noct's dad knew how religiously Noct followed the Princess' so-called "crime wave," Noct would be grounded for life.

So maybe Noct wasn't paying attention. Maybe he was trying to walk on his toes, straining to see any part of the crime scene he could from over the yellow tape. Maybe he was _kind of_ walking backwards at the same time.

Which explained why he didn't see the group of kids from school until he literally ran into them.

"What the hell?" Skinny hands pushed at Noct's shoulders as he went tipping over onto Grace Jenns, Junior varsity lacrosse star and all-around asshole. "Watch where you're fucking going!"

"Sorry," Noct said. He twisted around, and caught a glimpse of one of Grace's friends holding a bag. It was a bright red lunchbag, and it was thrashing around like something possessed. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing," Grace said, squaring her shoulders. "So beat it."

Whatever it was howled in the bag, and the guy holding it shook it violently. Noct pushed past Grace, shoving a hand over her mouth.

"Let it go," he said. The guy laughed.

"Or what?" he said. 

Noct was a skinny kid. Most people took that to mean that he didn't have much by way of muscle--that he was a pushover, easy to ignore and easier still to shove aside. But Noct had also been trained in self defense by Regis Caelum, which meant that when he swung his fist, the first thing he heard was the crack of breaking bone.

The bag dropped to the grass. Something slithered out--a white and blue streak racing for the bushes--but Noct couldn't get a good look due to the fact that with one guy down, he now had three other kids to deal with.

Three kids who definitely weren't going to be taken by surprise twice.

"You're dead, Caelum," Grace snarled.

He probably was.

"Hey!" Noct froze as the unmistakable sound of his father's voice rang out across the park. He twisted around, slowly lowering his fists, as Regis strode across the grass, brows lowered dangerously. The other kids, seeing a man in Crownsguard black, edged away from Noct. 

"What's this?" Regis asked. Noct tried not to cringe. The guy he'd hit was sobbing wetly, and blood was spattering on the freshly-cut grass.

"They had an animal in a bag," Noct said, and now, with blood on his knuckles and a crowd of suddenly all-too-innocent teenagers at his back, he realized how thin and weak that sounded. "They were torturing it."

"Did you have proof?" Regis asked. 

"We were just standing here!" Grace wailed. "He came at us with no warning!"

Regis' voice was flat and cold. "Did you attack them unprovoked?" He bent down and picked up the bag. "Claw marks," he said. He picked out a long, white hair. "Well, something was in here. And it was bleeding, by the look of it. You kids know the penalty for animal abuse?"

"Jordan's bleeding, too," Grace said. "What's the penalty for _that?_ "

Regis straightened. "If you want to press charges, I can give you the number to call. We have a medic on the way--I'll cover your expenses personally. Noctis, you're going home. Straight home."

Noct looked down. 

"Noctis."

Noct thought of the small creature skittering into the shadows, howling in pain, and clenched his fists.

"Alright." Regis tucked the bag under his arm. "Come with me. I have a case to get back to."

The ride home was spent in silence, with Noct pressed against the side door while his father stared straight ahead, glaring at the road. When they pulled up to the drive of their small family home, Regis locked the doors.

"Dad," Noct said.

"Noctis." Regis sighed. When he looked at Noct, his gaze was heavy with exhaustion. With regret. Like Noct was the biggest disappointment in his life--Not charming or charismatic like Regis was, not a powerhouse of pure will like his mother, unable to follow in either of their footsteps. He was just a punk kid who beat up junior varsity players over a freaked-out animal in a bag.

"Sorry," Noct mumbled, and pushed at the lock. He fell out of the car, stumbling on his useless feet, and slunk his way to the front door.

Something flickered in the corner of his eye--white and blue, white and blue--but when he turned to look, all he saw was his dad's cop car trundling onto the road. He watched it go for a minute, holding the door half open with a foot, and hunched inside.

"Hey, Mom," he said. A woman in a photo on the wall smiled cheerily back at him, her face an exact, rounder version of Noct's. She wore a stunning suit, her hat perched jauntily on her feathery black hair, while the soldiers in her spec ops division knelt around her, framing her. _Commander Aulea Leonis._ The hero of Lucis. Most of her stripes and medals hung in the study, and there were pages and pages of commendations in the family album, all yellowed with time. He couldn't imagine her being a disappointment to anyone. 

Noct kicked off his boots and flopped face-down on the couch.

"Moogle," he said, and the in-home device by the TV booted up, flashing red. "Play the emergency playlist."

"Kupo!" The TV flashed on, and a heavy guitar riff wailed through the house. Noct lay there, drowning in drums and screeching guitars, while the sun sank beneath the skyscrapers and crickets started to shriek in the yard. When he finally bothered to peel his face off the couch cushion, the world behind the living room window was black as pitch, and his phone had five new text messages.

"Nooo," he whispered, and rolled onto the floor. The phone buzzed again, and he groped for it, holding his thumb down on the home button.

_Boy!_

_Boy?_

_Behind you!_

_Excuse me???? (´･_･`)  
_

Noct squinted at his phone for a second, then looked up. A white and blue fox sat on the edge of the couch, it's thick tail swishing like a pendulum. It tilted its head, and a red stone in the center of its forehead shone in the lamplight.

Noct's phone buzzed.

 _Hello!_

Noct made a strangled sound in the back of his throat. The fox ducked it's head, and he scrambled back, clutching his phone. Another text popped up on the screen.

_Thank you for saving me earlier! My name's Carbuncle!_

"Okay," Noct said. "Okay. Okay."

_I know this sounds strange, but I promise I'm here to help._

"You're the thing in the bag," Noct said. The fox narrowed its eyes and jumped down to the floor. 

_I'm not a thing,_ it said. _I'm Carbuncle. Guardian to the royal family of Lucis._ The light of the stone on its forehead seemed to expand, casting red spots on the floor, and Noct pressed his back to the wall. The world shifted around him, the hairs on his arms stood on end, and even the crickets and distant traffic faded to a dull hum as the fox placed both paws on his knee and stared up at him, baring its teeth.

_Just like you._

Noct covered his face with both hands. "So this is what a mental breakdown looks like," he breathed.

The TV beeped, and silvery words appeared on the screen. Noct groaned softly.

_I knew the moment I saw you. Your power is faint, but it's there. The Princess needs her guardians, and you and I are going to be the ones who find them._

"The Princess?" Noct blinked against his fingers. "You mean like, the vigilante? The one in the dress?"

 _Yes,_ Carbuncle said. _Daemons are returning to Eos. The Princess will need all her allies if she is to push it back._ Carbuncle shook out his ears, and shadowy images appeared on the screen. _The Glaive. The Wise. The Knight. The Phoenix. And most important of all, the Prince. The hero of Lucis, brought back from the years of darkness to cleanse our star._

"Which one am I supposed to be?" Noct asked, curious despite himself. 

_Let's find out,_ Carbuncle chirped, and the light of his stone glowed a brilliant scarlet. The room disappeared, the walls falling back to reveal limitless blue space as far as Noct could see, an emptiness that pulsed with light, like the rippling waves of an aurora. Noct tipped his head to track their progress across this impossible sky, and gasped as one of the waves peeled away from the universe, twisting into a ribbon of light that wrapped around Noct's outstretched hand. More lights followed, traveling up his legs, over his eyes, ruffling his mussed, ungelled hair. Noct closed his eyes in the sudden brilliance, and when he opened them again, he was standing in his living room, breathing hard, Carbuncle at his feet.

He looked down. He was wearing a black uniform, a long tunic buttoned up on one side with silver, with trim black pants and boots with matching silver buckles. When he twisted around, he caught the edge of a black cloak, which was lined with silver and reached the back of his ankles. He lifted it in his hands, and it slid through his fingers like silk.

Carbuncle barked, and Noct glanced up at the TV. 

_I knew it,_ said the soft, silver font on the screen. _Welcome back, Boy. You are the Knight reborn, guardian of the prince and princess and captain of their forces._ The TV went black, and Noct saw his own masked, flushed face reflected behind the words that scrawled across the screen. _You and I have a lot of work to do._


	2. Chapter 2

Noctis Lucis Caelum stood on the roof of the North Insomnia Apartment complex, looking out over the rim of the Bowl.

The Bowl was another relic of Insomnia’s past--A massive crater carved out of the city, smoothed into a series of winding steppes crammed with apartment complexes and fast food joints. Some people said it was the result of a daemon attack, but Noct’s history book said it came from some sort of weapon, deployed back when Niflheim was an actual country and not just a few villages huddled south of Tenebrae. It was a place where people lived when they didn’t really fit in the cookie-cutter houses of the South and East districts, and it showed in the way the Galahdian neighborhoods merged with the Leidan ones, the strips of Niflheimr wedged between the two. This used to be Regis’ beat, back when Noct was a kid, and Noct used to ride his bike all through the winding streets, trying to follow his dad’s car on the sly. It made it the perfect place to practice.

“You don’t think we’re gonna find the Princess here?” Noct asked. His cape flapped against his legs, a reminder that this was real, that he wasn’t just asleep on the couch back home.

_Of course not. This part of town is daemon-free._

Noct sighed. “You know daemons aren’t real,” he said. “They’re just something people made up to explain the Scourge. Mom says it’s like, I dunno, the myth about Ravatogh.”

 _That wasn’t a myth,_ Carbuncle texted. Noct rolled his eyes. _Let me show you how to warp, okay? You build the magic in your core, then you jump!_

Noct stared, dumbstruck, as Carbuncle leapt. The light around its horn glowed bright as a small sun, then Carbuncle landed a few feet away, covered in a shower of sparks.

 _Like that,_ said the text on Noct’s phone.

Carbuncle waggled its legs like a cat preparing to pounce, ears flapping. 

“Right,” Noct said.

Carbuncle cheeped. 

“I don’t know what magic’s supposed to feel like,” Noct protested. “I’m not about to…” He stopped, unsure. Ever since Carbuncle had given him his new name--the _Knight,_ protector of the Prince--he’d felt… strange. Like a bubble was rising in his throat, slow and light, ready to pop. He held out his hand, and light formed around it, faint crystals against the haze of an Insomnian night. 

“Huh,” he whispered. Carbuncle watched him, eyes wide, the light of its horn pulsing like a heart.

Noct stepped off the roof.

The world tilted. Shifted. Expanded, unfolding like one of the lamps in his mom's study, the city spreading out before him in a dizzying splash of light against the moonless sky. Noct whooped, high and triumphant, as firelights sparked around him, carrying him across the space between the roofs, leaving only a faint outline of his body behind. He landed on the opposite roof with a thump, and rolled to his hands and knees.

"Holy shit," he said. He looked down at his hands, which were scraped raw by the concrete. "Holy shit!"

He raced for the edge. Carbuncle bounded after him, scrabbling onto his cloak, but Noct was already leaping into the air a second time. There was another spray of lights, and he hit the fire escape on the side of an apartment building with a boom that echoed in the alley like thunder.

Someone opened their window far below, and Noct scrambled up the ladder. His phone buzzed in his pocket, but his head was full of sky, and he almost made it to the roof before Carbuncle bit him sharply on the ear.

"Hey!" Noct fumbled for his phone.

 _Be careful!_ Carbuncle texted. 

Noct hung onto the fire escape, panting softly. "That was amazing,” he said. He laughed, and the sound surprised him, nothing like the sheepish chuckle he tried to suppress in school. “What else can I do?”

Carbuncle closed its eyes. When they opened, they were full of light.

 _We’ll find out,_ It said. _There’s a daemon. South of us. South. South!_

“Which way’s south?” Noct asked. Carbuncle whipped around, clinging to his chest, and Noct followed, warping off the roof towards the street below. 

 

\---

 

Nyx Ulric was seventeen years old, and he was going to die.

He had to admit, as he was backed into the wall behind the Old Galahdian Bar and Grill, that he’d had a good run. He’d gotten out of Galahd. He had a job--A shitty one, sure, delivering food to people in the suburbs who looked at him like he was after their decorative vases and well-off daughters--but his sister was going to one of the best schools in the city, and their apartment wasn’t half bad.

But he had to get involved, hadn’t he? It wasn’t good enough, having a genius sister and a job and a roof over their heads. He had to _do more._ Had to buy lunch for that punk kid in the KG gang, the one with wild red hair and a bad habit of getting in too deep. And when he had, when Nyx saw him in the back of a group of kids squaring up against the Crownsguard, Nyx had jumped in _again._

And now he was going to die.

The handcuffs didn’t help. Neither did the Crownsguard at his feet, blood trickling down his forehead, his badge shining in the light of the low streetlamp. The Crownsguard car Nyx had been heading for was on its back, a glossy beetle with its guts spraying oil, and the pavement around them shuddered and cracked. 

“For the record,” Nyx whispered, as he crawled over the unconscious cop, “I wasn’t actually guilty.”

No answer. Of course. Nyx reached for the gun strapped to the man’s belt, and felt him shift beneath him. 

“Easy,” Nyx said. “I’ll get us out of this.”

He looked up into the glowing eyes of the creature standing over them, and raised the gun in both hands.

Then, just as the world threatened to close in on the both of them, the neon sign over the creature’s head changed shape.

Nyx froze.

“You…” he licked his lips. “Need to…”

 

\---

 

 _YOU NEED TO SUMMON YOUR WEAPON!!_ hissed the neon light over the daemon, as Noct fell, heart in his throat, two stories down from the roof of a bar. 

“I don’t know how!” Noct shouted. 

This wasn’t going the way he expected, to say the least. He hadn’t actually thought there’d _be_ a daemon, not a real one, not a great hideous monster with purple skin and glowing eyes, hunching over one of his dad’s buddies on the force. He’d thought it would be… a fairy, maybe, or one of the monsters on the TV shows he used to watch as a kid, with the Princess nearby to kick its ass if things got tough. 

Now, all Noct had were his fists, a barking fox on the roof, and way too much momentum. 

He slammed into the daemon, knocking them both back a few lumbering steps. Something went off behind him--a crack of lightning--and the daemon wrapped thick fingers around Noct’s arms and sent him tumbling down an alley. 

“Summon!” Noct shouted. The daemon lurched towards him, heavy feet cracking the pavement. Noct’s fingers clenched. “Weapon! Sword! _Gun?!”_

The daemon’s brows lowered. Noct thought of the Princess, dressed in a ballgown and track pants, taking out things like this every night, and slowly got to his knees. If Carbuncle thought he could do this, if he _was_ the Knight, he should have something. A sword, a shield--

There was another crack of lightning. The daemon stopped, and twisted its head to look back at a teenager crouched in the alley, holding a gun in both hands. Noct tasted metal in his mouth. His heart hammered, rapid-fire and heavy in his chest, and he held out his hand the way he had before. Light wavered around his fingers, and the hilt of a sword appeared out of thin air, like the ghost of a weapon. He wrapped his hands around it, and the blade burst into view. 

“Right,” he said. “Oh, gods.” He pushed off from the concrete just as the daemon started to turn, and brought the sword up like a bludgeon. It sliced through the daemon, striking to the core of it, and Noct braced his feet as the creature howled, low and terrible. It jerked against the sword, and Noct fell forward as the daemon collapsed, dissolving into a viscous, bubbling mess that seeped into the cracks in the pavement. 

Noct stood there, panting, sword clutched in both hands, and turned his gaze to the guy kneeling in the alley. The guy was a few years older than Noct, with dark hair and the look of an islander, and his wrists shone with the glint of silvery handcuffs. 

“The hell are you?” he asked. 

Noct swallowed. “The Knight,” he said. He cleared his throat, and tried to stand a little straighter. “The Knight. Obviously.”

“Wait…” the guy frowned. “Like Batman?”

“What? No.” Noct almost dropped the sword. “Not like... Okay. Ok, are you… how’s the guy… do you need help?”

“I don’t know,” the guy said. “Do you?”

“No,” Noct said. His voice broke. “No, I’m fine. You’re fine. Do you know how that… how it… uh, how did the daemon--” His phone buzzed, and Noct yanked it out of his pocket, getting his cape tangled up in his arm at the same time.

 _DON’T TALK TO CIVILIANS,_ Carbuncle texted. 

“Uh! Right!” Noct said. “Glad to help! Good luck with, with getting arrested?” 

“Yeah,” the guy said. “Thanks.”

“Great!” Noct said, and waved, his face blazing with the heat of a thousand awkward, teenaged suns. “Awesome!”

 

“ _Great,_ ” Noct moaned twenty minutes later, facedown on his bed. “ _Awesome._ ”

 _You did fine!_ Carbuncle texted. It was lying belly-up on Noct’s pillow, kicking its tiny paws in the air. _Better than fine. I wouldn’t expect someone so newly awakened to have that kind of power._

Noct risked a glance up. “Yeah?”

_Yeah! Sure, it took you a while to summon your sword, and your warping needs help, but other than that…_

Noct moaned again, dropping his face back on the mattress. “You’re right. I need serious help,” he said.

_Well._

“Who says _Good luck with getting arrested?_ ”

Carbuncle rolled over and licked Noct’s forehead with a rough tongue. _Not that kind of help,_ it said, _But you’re getting the idea._

Noct ended up sleeping through his dad coming home, curled up with Carbuncle on his neck, and by the time his alarm rang for school in the morning, his head throbbed like he’d been curb-stomped by daemons all night. He oozed out of bed and changed into his old uniform from the day before, ignoring the way it wrinkled at the sleeves. Carbuncle curled up in his backpack, leaving no room for his math book or lunch, which Noct had to carry under his sleeve as he dragged himself down the hall and out the front door. 

“Evil day star,” he whispered, shielding his eyes from the sun. Carbuncle chittered in his bag, and Noct slouched his way onto the street. His school was just outside the Bowl, nestled next to an elite charter school for the rich kids in South Insomnia. That meant he had to cross the highway if he didn’t want to cut through the park, so Noct ducked under a guard railing and ran facefirst into a tall, broad-shouldered man in a rumpled business suit. 

“Well, excuse me,” the man said, in a low, affected drawl. Noct looked up into golden eyes framed by long hair, a red so dark it was almost purple. 

“Sorry,” Noct said. “My bad.” He sidestepped around the man, who raised his brows and smiled slightly.

“Yes, it certainly is,” he said. “What has you in such a hurry?”

“School,” Noct said. He gestured to his uniform.

The man laughed. “Really?” He looked down at his watch. “Which one, the remedial school by the Bowl?” Noct opened his mouth in wordless outrage, and the man tapped his watchface. “You’re an hour late. This morning was the annual spring-forward, don’t you remember?”

Noct pulled out his phone. “Oh no. Oh, gods.” He _was_ late. With everything that happened the night before, he must have forgotten to set his alarm forward an hour. “Oh, shit!”

“Have fun!” the man sing-songed, and Noct cast him a dark glare. The man smiled, and Noct threw him a gesture that would have had him grounded for a month. All he got out of _that_ was another laugh, so he just scowled and turned on his heel, running full-tilt for the road. 

“We’ve gotta find the others,” Noct said, as he jaywalked across four lanes of traffic to the tune of frantic car horns and shouting pedestrians. “I don’t think I can do this kind of thing alone _and_ pass tenth grade.”

 _We’ll find them,_ Carbuncle texted. He shifted in Noct’s backpack, a soft pressure bumping into his spine, as Noct skidded into the subway. _Besides, I have a feeling that they’re probably a lot closer than we think._

“I sure hope so,” Noct said, and raced down the steps to the Insomnia B Train. “At this rate, I’m gonna need all the help I can get.”


	3. Chapter 3

The halls of Bahamut Cross High were strangely quiet when Noct slipped in through the employees-only entrance, bypassing the main doors where the principal always waited, arms crossed, to catch any latecomers. Usually, there was a line of them waiting outside the cafeteria, shamed into a sulky silence while first period wrapped up, but all Noct could see was one lanky kid with his head between his knees, hunched over by the auditorium.

Noct skirted closer to get a better look, and stared down at the wretched form of Ignis Scientia, star of the chess team and sometime keeper of the top score in the entire sophomore class. Noct and Ignis' names were always rotating at the top of the chart--Noct because he knew how to test well, and Ignis because he worked like he had little goblins at his heels, cracking the whip every time he even _thought_ of slacking off. Noct didn't have to work too hard for his grades, but Ignis tried everything; Cram schools, tutors, late afternoons in study hall, extra AP classes and online college courses at night. Ignis always had his head down, poring over his work like a man possessed, and when he did come up to breathe, he always looked... hunted, almost, like he'd never study hard enough to get where he wanted.

Now, Ignis had his head between his gangly legs, breathing hard. Noct stopped in front of him and crouched down.

"Hey," he whispered. "You okay?"

Ignis looked up. His face was oddly pale and washed-out, and his fingers trembled when he fumbled for his glasses. "Oh," he said. "Oh, yes. I'm just a little motion sick."

"From what?" Noct could feel Carbuncle moving around in his backpack. He shifted it to one shoulder, out of Ignis' line of sight.

"A new VR learning program," Ignis said, sighing deeply. "They're testing it on all the top students in the auditorium right now. I could hardly put it on."

“Maybe it’s the glasses,” Noct said. “You said all the top students, right? Am I…”

“Yes, you _should_ be there,” Ignis said, and for a second, he almost smiled. “Did you forget the spring forward?”

“Had a long night,” Noct said. He sat down next to Ignis, stretching out his sore legs. Carbuncle cheeped in his backpack, and his phone vibrated alarmingly. “Sorry,” he said. “New ringtone.”

Carbuncle cheeped again. Ignis raised his brows, and Noct’s smile tightened, showing too much teeth. He gently pushed his backpack out of the way, but Carbuncle was thrashing about inside, claws scrabbling at the zipper. Carbuncle’s narrow face popped out of the bag, and the fur around their neck ruffled like the feathers of an indignant bird. 

“Oh,” Ignis said, and for the first time in Noct’s memory, broke out into a true smile. Rubber bands stretched. Metal flashed. The jumbled chaos that was Ignis’ heavy-duty braces gleamed bright purple against his crooked teeth, and Ignis leaned over Noct’s lap to pull Carbuncle the rest of the way out of the bag.

“Aren't you beautiful,” he said, and Carbuncle swished their tail, eyeing Noct. “Oh, look at you. You’re gorgeous. Yes you are, yes you _are._ You know this can get you expelled, right?” he asked Noct, without pausing for breath. Carbuncle preened under his expert ear-scratches, and Noct couldn’t help but feel a little miffed. He leaned over to scratch Carbuncle’s back. 

“Carbuncle insisted,” he said. “I rescued them from a group of juniors yesterday, and they're kind of attached.”

 _You are attached, right?_ he texted. Carbuncle just closed their eyes and leaned into Ignis’ hand. 

“It's strange,” Ignis said, as Carbuncle climbed into his lap and a piece of Noct’s soul withered away. “I feel like they're familiar somehow. Like I’ve seen them before.”

Carbuncle barked softly, and both Ignis and Noct’s phones buzzed. Ignis dug his out, and Noct grinned to see a home screen with the King’s Knight logo before his messages popped up. Ignis’ brows snapped together, and he mouthed the words softly.

“He's one of us,” he read. “Noctis, did you send this to me?”

“I don't even have your number,” Noct said. Ignis didn't answer for a moment. He just stared at him, sizing him up, searching his face as though he were trying to solve a particularly difficult puzzle. _One of us,_ Carbuncle had said. They weren't alone. Noctis wanted to drag Ignis off and tell him everything, to transform, to show him his own texts, but he couldn't even think of how to start.

“You don't _seem_ to be lying,” he said. “But then who--”

Both boys jumped as Carbuncle, still demanding pets like a spoiled housecat, leapt to their feet and scrambled for the bag. Ignis yelped at a long scratch on his forearm, and Noct swore darkly as the door to the auditorium opened wide. A long-legged woman stepped out, dressed in muted greys and purples, and gazed down at the two of them with a dispassionate air.

“Ignis,” she said. “You're needed inside.”

“I.” Ignis hurriedly hid his phone. “I can't. It made me sick--”

“We fixed it,” the woman said. There was something odd in the way she spoke. Noct watched her mouth, which moved almost too expressively, like she was just shaping her lips around words that were already there. “It was a glitch in the programming.”

She handed out a heavy visor, which Ignis took in both hands. Noct’s own stomach churned at the sight of it, but he couldn't say why, and he couldn't find the words to stop him before Ignis was fitting the visor over his eyes.

“Oh,” Ignis said, in a soft, small voice.

“There we go,” the woman said. “Up, boy.” She didn't even give Noct a second glance. She just dragged Ignis up by the arm and towed him inside, letting him trip after her in dazed silence. Ignis’ cellphone dropped with a clatter on the tile, and he didn't even stop to pick it up.

The door clicked shut. 

“Okay,” Noct said, picking up Ignis’ phone. “That felt weird. That definitely felt weird, right?”

 _A daemon,_ Carbuncle texted. _I’m sorry, I didn't see. The boy distracted me._

“We can't leave him in there with her,” Noct said. His heart was thrumming again, just like it had in the alley the night before. His palms were starting to sweat. He brushed off his jeans, looked around the hallway, and then back down at his backpack.

“How do I transform?” he whispered.

_Say In the name of the Moon!_

“Really? Do I have to?”

_Please? Just once? Okay, fine. Say “For Lucis, and the king.”_

“For Lucis,” Noct muttered, under his breath. “And the king.”

The world erupted in light. Noct’s sneakers lifted from the floor--his eyes flew open as the ribbons of light from the night before wrapped around him, changing him, carrying him into a distant plane. For a second, he thought he heard voices, saw glimpses of a field, of a campfire, a hand in his. Then it was gone, and Noct crashed to earth in his Knight’s uniform, cape flapping at his shins.

“Okay,” he said, adjusting his mask. “Let's kick some daemon ass.”

He kicked at the door. Then, when the door didn't budge, he sheepishly turned the handle and pulled.

“Step away from the nerds!” he shouted.

The auditorium was quiet, and so dark that Noct had to squint to see beyond the first few rows. Kids slumped in their seats, heads lolling on their necks, as the daemon woman in the grey suit walked among them, lifting them up for inspection before tossing them down again. She looked up at Noct, and her lips curved in a smile that was just a bit too wide for comfort.

“Wonderful,” she purred. She dropped Ignis’ hand, and Ignis swayed on his feet. “Here I thought I’d have to go through the whole school to find one of you, and you come to me, instead.”

“Yeah, okay,” Noct said. “Not what I was going for, but it works.” He held out his hand, and his sword dropped into it, glowing faintly in the gloom.

Ignis’ head twitched, light gleaming off his heavy visor.

“Oh, my master will be pleased when I bring him your head,” the daemon said, and when she lifted her chin, a line appeared at her neck, flapping along in time with her words. Her true mouth, Noct realized, with a sickening lurch in his gut. She tilted her chin further back, then further still, until her head toppled to the stage behind her, just a lump of plastic that sizzled and melted on the polished wood. There was a flash of darkness, like a light going out, and a great creature floated a few feet off the ground, wrapped in a ragged cloak.

A lich, Noct thought. It looked just like the drawings in the card games he used to play as a kid. An actual lich, drifting not a foot away from Ignis.

Noct hefted his sword, sent a hasty prayer to the gods, and threw it at the daemon.

Turned out, as Noct rammed his shoulder into the side of the stage with a thump that shook his bones, Noct wasn't the only one who knew how to warp. He could barely get a hit on the thing, especially when it kept phasing in front of other students, who went down silently as Noct barreled into them, holding his sword wildly out of reach. The lich laughed, low and hoarse, as Noct climbed over the prone forms of his classmates to get to it.

“Poor little hero,” it hissed. “All on your own.”

“I’m doing fine,” Noct said, and warped again. He smacked face-first into the Lucian flag and went sprawling, knocking over the pole with a clatter that echoed across the room. “Shit,” he whispered, as the daemon drifted closer. He held out his sword. “Shit. Shit.”

“You…” Noct and the daemon both paused, twisting around, as a thin voice echoed across the auditorium. Ignis was wrestling with his visor, tugging it off to reveal an ashen, sweaty face and wide eyes. “You leave him alone.”

“Ignis.” Noct kicked at the lich as it tries to turn. “Just run, okay? Just get out of here!”

“Did I stutter?” Ignis said, glaring at the lich. He unbuttoned his sleeves. Oh, gods, he was going to try and fight it with his bare hands. “I said, you need to leave Noct alone!”

At Ignis’ feet, the light of Carbuncle’s ruby horn glowed with the force of a small sun. Noct raised an arm to cover his face as Ignis rose off the floor, eyes closed, hands outstretched. Light whirled around him like a wave, the ocean drawing up through the floor to wrap him in a churning, rushing cocoon. The lich howled, and when the light subsided, Ignis was wearing a smart black suit with silver buttons, black gloves, and a green visor that glimmered all on its own, shielding his eyes. Ignis raised his hand to touch it, and when he smiled, his teeth were straight and white and free of rubber bands.

“Well,” he said, and gave Noct a smart little salute. “This is something, isn't it?”

“Two of you?” the lich said. “No matter.” It reached for Noct, and Noct slashed at its hand with his sword. It phased just out of reach. “I’ll have you _both_ before my master, then.”

“No, thank you,” Ignis said, and a pair of knives appeared in his hands. They blazed with a white magical fire, and the daemon drifted back, looking suddenly unsure. “I think not.”

“Yeah!” Noct shouted. “Fuck you, then!”

“We need to work on that,” Ignis said, and tossed a knife into the air. Then he kicked it, sending it straight for the daemon--which phased to the right, where Ignis was lunging, second knife bared. The daemon wailed in pain, and Ignis flashed Noct a smile. 

“Keep it moving!” he shouted. Noct grinned and scooted off the stage. He slashed at the lich, sending it phasing towards Ignis, who stabbed it in the arm. It phased to flee the fire of his knives, which brought it right into Noct’s range. They pushed it back and forth between them, backing it into a corner, where it cowered and wailed, slashing out at them with weak, curled fingers.

“Once more,” Ignis said, and they both struck at once, driving their blades into the daemon’s neck. It howled one last time, a horrible, thin wail that shivered in the air, and then it was gone, nothing but mist. Noct dropped to his knees, heaving for breath, and Ignis sat down beside him, lifting up his visor. He looked older, somehow, more assured, and Noct found himself staring openly as Ignis wiped his forehead with his sleeve.

“Care to explain what just happened?” Ignis asked. The auditorium was starting to stir, voices rising as students started waking from their VR-induced stasis. 

Noct shrugged. “It's kind of a long story. I can tell you after school if you want--There’s an arcade by the sushi place on 5th street…”

“I have lessons,” Ignis said, and Noct pressed his lips together tight. Ignis sighed and nudged Noct’s shoulder with a fist. “But I suppose I can make the time.”

They might as well have skipped the rest of their classes, in the end. The school was in an uproar after the top kids in the sophomore and junior classes all woke up to a pitch-black auditorium and a melting fake head on the stage, and everyone had to be rushed to the cafeteria to wait around while the principal talked to the police. The cops that came didn't look familiar, so Noct and Ignis hung out in the back, texting each other with Carbuncle weighing in from the backpack. Ignis was all caught up by the time school let out, but he still followed Noct to the arcade, holding Noct’s empty bag while Carbuncle rode Noct’s shoulders.

“Should’ve known you’d be the Wise,” Noct said, bumping Ignis’ shoulder as they sauntered down the sidewalk. “We make a pretty good team, don't we?”

“We get by,” Ignis said, and scrunched his eyes up in a smile. His braces were back, brighter and thicker than ever, but he didn't seem to mind anymore. “I wonder who the Prince is.”

“No clue. We have to find the guardians first,” Noct said. “And there's that guy the daemon was talking about. Their _master._ That can't be good." He sighed. "I wish we had like, a base of operations.”

“My house won't work for that, I’m afraid,” Ignis said. “My parents aren't keen on visitors.”

“We can hang out at the park, maybe,” Noct said. “There’s the shrine by the sylleblossom garden. No one ever goes there.”

“You mean the _haunted_ shrine?” Ignis asked, and laughed. “Oh, yes, sounds perfect.”

Noct rolled his eyes. “That or the arcade, wise guy.” He shoved Ignis, and Ignis shoved him back. Noct went toppling backwards, laughing, and didn't even see Ignis’ eyes widen in warning before he crashed into a girl their age in a strange uniform, sending both of them stumbling into the sidewalk.

“Oh my gods,” Noct said, disentangling himself from her long blue skirt. “I’m so sorry.”

“It's fine.” The girl winced, touching the thick braid pinned in a crown around her head, and reached for her shopping bag. Noct hurried to pick it up for her, and caught a glimpse of a bag of gourmet dog treats mixed in with scrapbooking supplies. “No, you don't have to--”

“No, let me. I’m really sorry,” Noct said. He looked up.

For just a second, the world stopped spinning.

“I’d better go,” the girl said. Noct watched her go, still sitting on his feet in the middle of the sidewalk, blinking like he’d just woken from an uncertain dream.

“Noct?” Ignis asked, shaking his shoulder. Carbuncle pressed a cold nose to his cheek, startling him. “Noct, are you alright?”

“Yeah,” Noct said, and swiped a hand over his face. “Sure, Ignis. I’m just fine.”


	4. Chapter 4

Ardyn Izunia woke in the sewers.

The first time it happened, Ardyn was still new in town, riding off the last of his research grants while his dissertation languished in the void. He'd jolted awake at the entrance of a large underground station, dressed in a cloak he couldn't remember buying, and there was a black film under his nails and a cough in his lungs that wouldn't go away for weeks. He'd spent two days trying to get to the surface, passing bits of rubble and ancient shop signs, proof of a city that had fallen centuries before, and finally emerged in a lowtown street several miles from home. From there, he dragged himself through early morning traffic, climbed up the service stairs of his apartment, and scoured himself clean on the floor of his shower.

The second time, Ardyn was lucky enough to have his cellphone. His flashlight app shone a dim ray of light over the grimy remains of what could have once been a throne, wedged in the wall and surrounded by great slabs of marble. Between two of the slabs, there was a faint discoloration, a smudge of black that kept drawing Ardyn's eye like an aberration in his skin, a wound in the wall. Ardyn raised a hand to it, and saw the faint scrape of nails around the gap. His own fingernails were cracked and broken, and his fingers were stained black as tar.

The fifth time, Ardyn woke laughing.

Now, he cast off the cloak he'd found himself in once again, spat at the foot of the throne, and made his slow, careful way to the surface.

His therapist didn't know about these nighttime jaunts. His department head certainly didn't--at twenty-five, Ardyn was lucky to have a job at all, underqualified as he was, and he wasn't about to ruin things by letting it slip that he routinely woke up in the sewers, dressed in rags and feeling as though he'd fallen down a flight of stairs.

Still, he had it under control. He was starting to remember, now. It came to him in bits and pieces--being thrown against the wall, a hand on someone's collar, a look of pity in a familiar face--but the dreams were starting to come together. He almost had it. Soon, he'd have enough to be able to stop it.

He just had to do what it wanted.

Ardyn blinked the damp of the sewers out of his eyes and pushed away from the gap in the wall. The darkness at its heart pulsed, and Ardyn steadied himself, hands trembling.

It was getting bigger.

Soon, then. Ardyn turned aside, and the eyes in the darkness followed him out, hounding his steps through the winding sewers of Insomnia.

Soon.

 

\---

 

“Noct, have you seen my badge?”

“Left it in the fruit bowl!” Noct didn't look up from the TV as his dad raced down the stairs, buttoning his collared shirt. Carbuncle rolled around on Noct’s lap, purring like a cat, while Noct scribbled notes around their tail. 

Regis stopped in the kitchen, peering down into the bowl of apples on the counter. “Why did I… Noct, I may be late again tonight.”

“Still training the rookie?” Noct asked.

“Yes, but that's not all. It's about the missing kids near the park. We’ll be talking to family all day, and Drautos will have my head if I don't help him with that visit from Tenebrae next week--”

“It's cool,” Noct said. “Is it okay if I stay over at Ignis’ place?”

“Ignis?” Regis clipped his badge on his shoulder. “Who’s Ignis?”

Noct crossed his ankles on the coffee table. “A friend from school.”

There was a moment of silence. Regis cleared his throat, and Noct tilted his head back to look at him, standing alone in the kitchen with his Crownsguard uniform half buttoned. 

“A friend?” Regis said. Noct closed his eyes in a silent prayer. “That's good. I’m… I’m glad, Noct.”

Noct ducked his head to hide an embarrassed blush. Making friends came so easily to his dad. It had bothered him, Noct knew, to watch his son trudge through school in awkward, stilted silence, too uncomfortable to make new friends for more than a semester at a time. Even Noct’s mom had suggested setting up “play dates” with the kids of other Crownsguard on the force, which thankfully fell through before Noct had to barricade his room and swear off humanity altogether.

“If Ignis’ parents approve, I don't see why not,” Regis said at last. “Just make sure your homework is done.”

“Working on it,” Noct lied, pointing to the TV. “Extra credit.”

“Really?” Regis’ hopeful tone made Noct feel two inches small. “Maybe this Ignis is a good influence.” He leaned over to kiss the top of Noct’s head, and Noct swiped at his hair. “Behave.”

“I’ll try,” Noct mumbled. 

_I like him,_ Carbuncle texted, when the door slammed shut and Regis’ car rumbled in the drive. _Seen anything suspicious?_

“Not really,” Noct said. It was Ignis’ idea; They’d scour the news for anything that looked like daemonic activity in disguise, investigate, then map out what proved to be real. It felt like a whole lot of nothing to Noct, but he couldn't help but go along with it. Ignis had the biggest puppy eyes known to man. 

“There's the missing kids by the shrine,” Noct said. “But that's probably something else.”

 _We should check just in case,_ Carbuncle said. _Carbuncle and Noctis, tailing daemons! (ง •̀_•́)ง_

“You've been reading my manga again, haven't you?” Noct said, and pushed his notebook aside. “Alright, let's go. We’ll have to take the bike this time.”

Carbuncle jumped out of Noct’s lap, bounding excitedly for the door. They kept bouncing as Noct unlocked his mom’s bike, and scrambled up to the basket and curled up inside, ears twitching.

“You're like a dog in a car,” Noct said, smiling a little, but Carbuncle was too busy barking at the air to take offense. They took off down a side street, pedaling along the wide circle that wound to the shrine at the back of the park.

The shrine wasn't really in use anymore. It used to be a sort of temple for the old king of Lucis, the one from the fairytales (or not, if Carbuncle was right), but the last priest had retired when Regis was a kid, and the shrine was overtaken by the sylleblossom garden. People had weddings there sometimes, and kids dared each other to sneak in at night, but nobody really cared about it enough to open it up again. It was just there, another landmark in a city full of them.

Except now, rumor had it that kids who hung around the shrine were starting to disappear. Even the Crownsguard were worried, if Noct’s dad was working on it, which didn't bode well if it _was_ a daemon. Noct parked his bike a few yards from the bus stop, chained the wheels, and offered to lift Carbuncle out of the basket.

 _We’ll split up,_ Carbuncle said, jumping out of Noct’s reach. _I think I sense something nearby. Not sure what, but I’m on the case!_

“Well done, officer Carbuncle,” Noct said, saluting. Carbuncle barked and disappeared in the underbrush, tail whipping up flowers in their wake. Noct sighed and stuck his hands in his pockets, walking through the high blue flowers towards the shrine.

“We’re not here to judge, son.” 

Noct ran for the bus stop, ducking behind an ad for shaving cream as his dad, looking somber and forbidding in his dark uniform, stood with his hands on his hips a few yards from the shrine. A younger guy stood with him, dressed in a new uniform with the shiny stripes of a recruit, glancing around as though distracted by the sound of the wind in the garden. He looked oddly familiar to Noct, but he couldn't get a read on his face from around the ad, and he kept moving, shifting from foot to foot.

“Sure sounds like you are,” said a new voice, low and rough. Noct ducked down a bit more. There was a boy standing in front of the Crownsguard, wearing just a pair of jeans and a thin tank top under a heavy leather jacket. He looked kind of like the kids who ran with the biker gangs uptown, the ones Noct’s dad was always hauling in for an overnight stay in the cells. _Trouble._

“It sounds improbable, that's all,” Regis said. “You say your sister happened to take a bus from here?”

“Just like all the others,” the boy said.

“And she didn't come back?” Regis sighed. “You know that there hasn't been a bus along this route in five years. The neighbors say they haven't seen one, and our surveillance--”

“It was there!” the guy rocked forward, then back, hands fisted at his sides. “I saw it. The last girl, I saw her get on.”

“People say they've been hearing voices at night,” Regis said. “They say you’ve been hanging around this shrine since this all started.”

“I didn't--you don't think I--” the guy gestured towards the bus stop, and Noct hid behind the ad again. “I ain't lyin. I didn't touch them.”

“No one thinks you did,” Regis said. “But what you're doing is dangerous, Gladio. Your father wouldn't want you to--”

“You don't know what he would’ve wanted,” the guy said. “None of the Crownsguard know _shit._ ”

“Hold on, now…”

“Are we done?” Gladio asked. 

“Not by a long shot.” Regis handed Gladio a card, which Gladio shoved in his pocket. “We’ll be expecting you tomorrow. Nine o’clock sharp. And call Jared; I’m sure he’s worried about you.”

Gladio just stood there, silent and still, arms crossed. Regis raised a hand as though to pat his shoulder, thought better of it, and turned away. The other guy with him paused for a moment.

“Did you notice anything else?” he asked, in a voice so low Noct almost couldn’t hear it. “Anything strange?”

“Other than Crownsguard pretending to give half a shit?” Gladio asked. Noct’s dad stopped for a second, then squared his shoulders and walked on, his face drawn in shadow. 

“I’m not a full Crownsguard yet,” the other guy said. “So maybe I give three quarters of a shit instead. If you see anything… _anything,_ head down to the station and ask for Nyx Ulric. Okay?”

“Yeah, sure.”

The new guy followed Regis out of the garden, unbuttoning his jacket as he went. It flapped out on either side of him as he walked, like a short, uneven cape, and Noct almost didn’t catch Gladio heading back into the shrine out of the corner of his eye. Noct waited another minute, then darted out over the round field of flowers, making an impromptu path through the thick blossoms. 

The shrine definitely looked ancient up close. The gate over the entrance was crumbling with sylleblossom vines, and the window screens were all gone, stolen or broken long ago. The only thing that looked new was a bamboo door, which creaked when Noct slid it open. 

“I said we’re done,” Gladio barked. Noct winced. Gladio was sitting by a stone slab at the back of the shrine, which had an inscription written in the old language of Lucis, back before the Dawn. Noct tapped on the door, and Gladio turned red-rimmed eyes his way. “What do _you_ want?”

“I’m here to.” Noct took a breath. “Here to see the shrine,” he lied, gesturing to the stone. “Doing a project on the old king.”

Which wasn’t a complete lie, really. Noct did need to know about the king if he was going to find his reincarnated self back in the real world--if Carbuncle was right about it all. So it was practically the truth. Gladio looked Noct up and down, rolled his eyes, and gestured to the stone.

“There he is. Or not, actually. He’s buried like, thirty feet down and two miles away.”

“I thought no one knew where the king was buried,” Noct said. He sat down carefully in front of the stone slab. Someone had lit candles around it, and there were packets of incense and an old fishing lure laid out on the floor, which was probably junk left over from when people used the shrine to toss their litter. Noct picked it up, and Gladio made a soft choking sound of protest. “What?”

“That’s for the shrine,” Gladio said. Noct carefully set down the lure. “And I dunno, I heard they found him a few months back. Maybe I’m wrong.” 

He looked off to the side as he spoke, scratching the back of his neck. “You’re doing a project, huh?”

“Yeah. Are you like, the groundskeeper of the shrine or something?”

Gladio laughed softly. “Sort of. Started coming here to think a while back, and it’s no good if the shrine’s covered in shit, you know?”

Noct nodded. “It’s nice of you, anyways. Bet he’d be happy someone’s taking care of it.”

“Hope so,” Gladio said, in a faint whisper. From where Noct sat, Gladio didn’t look much like trouble at all; Just lonely, maybe, a little wistful, the way Noct’s mom looked when she talked about her soldiers at the front. It was an old expression--too old for someone as young as Gladio. Noct opened his mouth to tell the truth, and Gladio cleared his throat.

“What’d you say your name was?” he asked.

“Noct.”

"Noct?" Gladio asked. "Like the old king?"

"Yeah, me and half the guys in school," Noct said. "Don't know why everyone says the name Noctis is lucky when he... you know." He looked back at the tablet. It was so simple, so... blank. Like the king had no room in his life for anything but his final sacrifice, or he had _so much_ that there wasn't any point listing it at all. "Wonder if he knew."

"He didn't," Gladio said. Noct looked at him sharply, and Gladio rubbed the back of his neck. "Not til the end. That's what I hear, anyways."

"You sound sure."

"I'm a history buff," Gladio said, and just like that, the wistful look in his eyes was gone, locked away behind a blank, uninterested stare. "Anyways, I'd better get back to work. Vines taking over the back wall again, you know."

Noct got to his feet, wincing as a spot in his lower back twinged, sore from sitting down for too long. "I wanna ask something," he said. "About those missing kids."

Gladio kept his gaze down, hands shoved in his pockets. "What about 'em?"

"One of them's your sister, right?" Noct said. It felt like he was navigating a lightning storm, darting across the open ground. "I heard the cops talking about her."

Gladio said nothing.

"Only... I don't think you'd hurt your sister," Noct said. "You don't seem like the type."

"Yeah?" Gladio's voice was low, dangerously soft. "What do I seem like?"

"Afraid," Noct said.

Gladio stared at him for a long, breathless moment. "Don't need your sympathy," he said, and firmly backed Noct out of the shrine. "And I don't need _you._ "

Noct stood there a little longer, watching Gladio's shadow move about the shrine, before he finally turned back to the sylleblossom field. He stopped a few paces in and picked a blossom, twisting the stalk around his wrist like a bracelet. Or a crown, he thought, and idly tucked it behind his right ear. The petals drooped and brushed his cheek, and Noct grinned, plucking it out again.

"You need to weave it," said a voice behind him. A girl's voice, with a faint accent that tickled the back of Noct's mind, soft and not quite familiar. He turned towards her, mouth open, and nearly dropped the flower.

"It'll never stay on like that," said the loveliest girl in the universe. She stepped closer, and sweat started to bead at the back of Noct's neck. The girl had a square chin that seemed at odds with her soft cheeks and long, dark lashes, and her eyebrows were quirked a little at the ends, and sure, there was definitely a red spot just to the right of her nose, but when she leaned down to pick another flower at her feet, Noct thought he might just die where he stood.

"Why were you visiting the shrine?" she asked. He knew her. He _knew_ her, he had to've seen her before--the girl by the arcade!

"I'm sorry I ran into you the other day," Noct croaked. His voice cracked halfway through, and he coughed, trying to sound lower, deeper. More mature. "I mean. I'm here because of the rumors. About the missing kids."

"Rumors are often untrue," the girl said. She took the sylleblossom from Noct's hand and pinched the stalk, weaving her own flower through the gap she'd made. "But even if they are, that's something for the police to investigate, don't you think?"

Noct watched her fingers move as she twisted another flower in her hands. "Um. I don't know. They're kind of spread thin right now."

"Then you shouldn't be here," the girl said. Her smile was vague, distant, and Noct thought he saw something of Gladio's closed-off expression there. She was hiding something. "You should probably go home."

"I'm safe," Noct said. "Trust me."

The girl's smile twitched. "Here we go," she said. "What do you think?" She set her creation over her head--A perfect flower crown, nestled in her light blonde hair. "Yes? No? Maybe?"

"You look beautiful," Noct said. The girl blinked, and her vague look slipped for a second, revealing a stark, sudden terror that made Noct rock back on his heels. Then it was gone, and the girl was lifting off the crown.

"It's silly, anyways," she said, and stepped closer. Noct swallowed his breath. She placed the crown over his brow, and so close, Noct could see the fear swimming behind her cold blue eyes. "It looks better on you. Have a safe trip back, um..."

"Noct," Noct whispered.

"Noctis," she said. "Of course. I'm Luna."

Noct opened his mouth to speak, but Luna was already turning away, marching in a straight line towards the bus stop. In the distance, Noct could hear the roar of a motor, and fear clutched his chest, tight and sharp as a line.

"Wait!" Noct staggered forward, and Luna glanced back over her shoulder, brows lowered.

"Go home, Noct," she said. There was a brittle edge to her smile, and it didn't quite reach her eyes. "I'll be perfectly safe."

"No you won't," Noct said. Panic welled in his throat. "That's where girls are disappearing."

"Good thing I'm not a girl, then," Luna said. "I'm sixteen. That's the age of womanhood in Tenebrae."

"Not in Lucis," Noct said. He jogged to keep up with Luna's firm stride. "Come on, let me sit with you until your stop, okay?"

"You do know it's rude to refuse to listen when a woman says no," Luna snapped. The bus was rounding the corner, kicking up leaves. She balled her fists in her skirt.

"Yeah, but you're hiding something," Noct said. "It's like you _want_ to get taken."

"Do you _hear_ yourself?" Luna raced for the bus stop just as the bus ground to a halt. Her white sneakers flashed in the grass as she ran, and she swung herself through the door just as Noct's fingers failed to clutch the back of her shirt. She hung onto the passenger railing with both arms. "Go home and stop _following_ me!"

"You're the one who got all cryptic about flower crowns!" Noct shouted back, and grabbed the rail. The bus squealed, and Luna raised her foot. "Wait! Wait, don't--"

"I said go _home,_ Noctis!" Luna's foot struck Noct square in the chest, and he went flying, landing on his back in the dirt. When he looked up, Luna was flouncing her way onto the bus, passing by the empty seats with her chin held high.

"Nice one!" Noct twisted round to find Gladio racing to meet them, his jacket slung over one shoulder, leaves fluttering about him as he skidded down the steps. Noct got to his feet just as Gladio made it to the bus stop, but the bus was already trundling off, hissing as the door slammed shut.

"I gotta get on that bus," Noct said. Gladio frowned, and Noct grabbed his arm. "There's no time. There's a girl--a girl just got on--"

"You don't think that's the bus--" Gladio said, but Noct didn't wait around to debate it. He took off, panting for breath as the bus started to pick up speed, hands grasping uselessly for the emergency door. If this _was_ the right bus, then it meant Luna was probably going to--they were gonna--

He thought of Luna, lying on her back on the stone, rain falling on her still, bloodless face.

 _Not again,_ whispered a voice in the back of his mind. _Not now._

"For Lucis," he whispered, wrapping his fingers around the door handle. "And the king."

Someone gasped beside him, but it was too late for Noct to wonder why. The world disappeared in a nimbus of light, and the wind roared around him as his Knight’s uniform whirled into being, cape flapping in the breeze. Noct yanked the back door of the bus open with one hand, and as the light of his ancient magic burst about him like drops of rain, Gladiolus Amicitia stood alone in the middle of the street, watching the bus disappear around the bend.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I gave Gladio a bit of a different power set/name than previously expected, but I think it fits?

Gladio was used to nightmares.

He was used to waking up in a sweat, head swimming, fingers tingling with the phantom touch of cold, unyielding flesh in the dark of an empty throne room. He was used to walking his little sister Iris to school every morning with memories that didn't belong to him jumbled in his brain, with spectres of old friends passing through his thoughts as he dragged himself through class. He was used to hearing Jared's voice in the kitchen instead of his father's, used to the disconcerting feeling that this had happened before, that he'd seen it all already, that no matter what happened, he would always be the last to go.

Gladio was used to being left behind.

"The world changes," said the man in his dream, when Gladio first started to sneak off to the shrine at night. The man was sitting in a plastic garden chair, holding a beer in both hands, and he was bathed in blue light from an overhead streetlamp. His face was scarred, and Gladio could see the shape of a tattoo under his jacket, feathers caressing his neck. "You have to change with it. It's hard. It'll always be hard, but you can't let it..." He pressed the back of his hand to his eyes, and his shoulders hunched over, casting a shadow on the table. "Fuck," he said, in a soft, broken voice, and Gladio woke up, tears stinging his eyes.

Gladio knew he had to stand fast. He had to be stronger, be sturdier, shift the way he thought so that grief didn't bleed into everything he did. He had to force himself to laugh at Iris' dumb jokes and take Talcott out to the grocery store like nothing was wrong, he couldn't run off to the shrine every time the dreams became too much. He couldn't end up alone on some chair, scarred and empty and crying into his beer. He had to... he had to...

Had to catch that bus.

Noct didn't hesitate. He'd gone right for it, even if that girl in the charter school uniform did kick him into the dirt, and now he was wrestling with the back door, hair whipping in the wind--

Light bloomed from Noct's fingers, and Gladio's breath hitched in his throat. One second, Noct was just a skinny, awkward kid hanging onto the back of the bus. The next, he was… still awkward, maybe. Still skinny. But his movements were sure, he was dressed like a noble from the seventh century, and when he pulled at the handle, the door gave way before him.

Gladio stood there a moment, at a loss, before he forced himself to move. The bus was picking up speed, but Gladio used to want to be Crownsguard, which meant he’d wasted too many summers to count running up and down the golf courses behind his house. Noct had only just managed to crawl inside by the time Gladio drew even with the back bumper, and when Gladio grabbed the door himself, he hauled his feet off the asphalt to find--

A bus full of statues.

“Oh my gods,” Noct said. His face was pale under his mask, and he started darting from seat to seat, looking into the eyes of over a dozen kids frozen in expressions of dawning horror. “Oh no, oh no, Luna. Luna’s not here, Luna’s gone, I don’t--”

“Calm down,” Gladio said. Noct whipped around, cape curling around his legs, and Gladio could see pure, unadulterated panic there. “She’s probably… probably fine.”

“She just got on,” Noct said. “What if she’s. What if I. I should’ve stopped her.”

Gladio paused, and the world fell into silence as he looked down at the shocked, small face of Iris Amicitia, sitting in a bus seat with her hands raised over her eyes. He touched her hair, which was smooth as marble and delicately carved, down to the individual strands rising in the humid air.

“Iris,” he breathed. 

“It’s a daemon.” Noct was babbling in the background, far beyond the distant roaring in Gladio’s ears. “Stay down, Gladio. I’ll… I can do this. I’ve done this before. Maybe if I kill it, they’ll come back.”

Gladio squinted his eyes shut. A vision, brief and terrible, flickered through his mind. A sunrise over a ruined city. A dog at his feet. Blisters on his palms. It was so hard, switching from a broadsword to a spade. So much harder than he’d ever thought it would be.

“They never come back,” Gladio said.

“No,” said a high, whispery voice at the front of the bus. “They never do.”

Gladio tore his gaze away from Iris, and looked up into the eyes of a daemon. 

The bus driver could have passed for an ordinary man, Gladio thought, as the daemon lifted a foot from Noctis’ prone form, if it weren’t for his eyes. His eyes were like glass marbles, empty and limitless all at once, and looking into them made Gladio feel like he was tipping forward into space. The daemon smiled, and his uniform shifted, revealing the echo of something else behind the glamor, something that writhed along the floor like a dozen undulating snakes. 

“You’d know that better than most,” the daemon said. Gladio could hear his voice in his own head, insidious and sly, slinking around his own thoughts and twisting them up in a knot. “I knew that if I searched long enough, I’d find one of you. The boy is easy enough to subdue, but you…” The daemon smiled. “You are a feast.”

“Gladiolus.” A voice hissed up from the floor under the chair where Iris was frozen in place, but Gladio couldn’t drag his gaze from those empty eyes. “Gladiolus!”

“Don’t touch him,” Noct said, and yelped as something pushed him down, pressing hard on his spine. “It’s me you want!”

"No, I have what I want right here," the daemon said, lifting Gladio's chin. "All those dreams of yours, haunting you in the night. Yes, I can see them. Only seventeen, and you already know the weight of a corpse in your arms. Who was he? A friend?" The daemon slid long nails over Gladio's face. "More than that, I think. But you, you have to be strong, don't you?"

"Don't listen to him, Gladio!" Noct struggled to rise, but Gladio was locked on the daemon, watching it pace around him.

"Yes, you're always the strong one. Be strong for your sister. For Talcott. For your so-called friends, who watch you for a sign of weakness. For the king. An eternal shield, a sentinel against the darkness, ever vigilant, ever alone."

"Gladio!" Noct braced himself on his arms. Gladio's legs were going grey as the statues of the kids who sat in perfect stillness on the bus around them. Then, just when Gladio struggled to breathe around a throat gone stiff as stone, a shadow under the seat reached out and touched Gladio's ankle. For an instant, Gladio saw them. Four of them, standing together under a pale blue sky, grass bowing in the wind. Above them, an eagle wheeled around the sun, and the one at Gladio’s side raised a hand to track its progress.

 _"Look,"_ he said. _"It's you."_

"Sometimes..." Gladio's voice was thin, younger than he expected. "Sometimes you gotta change."

"Not you, though," the daemon said. "Without tradition, what are you?"

"Find out," Gladio said, through gritted teeth. "I'll find _out._ " The daemon hissed as Gladio gripped him by the arm, and Gladio's gaze was sharp and clear. 

"I'll decide what I am," he said.

Gladio closed his eyes. He didn't see the lines racing down his back, streaming through his tank top like shafts of sun in an overcast sky, but he did feel the warmth on his face, the tickle of feathers trailing over his skin. Wind swept at his feet, and as he was lifted into the air, he let out a bark of astonished laughter. This was what the man in his dreams had been afraid of. The world changed, and Gladio had to change with it, shaping himself into something new. It was terrifying, but there was power in that, power that Gladio pulled about his shoulders in folds, an eagle drawing in their wings for a dive. 

Yes. An eagle. That would do.

The light around him burst, and Gladio opened his eyes to a world made sharper, larger, more real than ever before. He cried out, but his voice was a shriek that trembled in the air, and when he dove for the daemon at the head of the bus, Gladio could see feathers out of the corner of his eyes. 

"Oh my gods," Noct said, as Gladio ran a hand--a talon, ran a _talon_ over the daemon's eye. Gladio dug into the flesh at its heart, and as the daemon flailed and howled, struggling to clasp Gladio in their clutching hands, Gladio ripped out their heart.

He fell with a thud, and wiped a hand over his all-too-human mouth as the daemon stumbled towards him, collapsing into bubbling, hissing ichor between the seats.

"That," Noct said, getting to his feet with a wide, ridiculous grin, "was the coolest thing I've ever seen in my _life._ "

“What was that?” Gladio asked. He looked down at his hands, which were gloved in black leather, and his jacket, which was lined with silver and hung down to his thighs like a pirate captain in the video games Iris liked to play. He even had his own cape, strips of cloth that hung from his shoulders like the spreading feathers of an eagle, and there was the insignia of a bird on his cuffs, rising in a spire of flame. 

“You’re the Phoenix,” Noct said. “One of the guardians of the prince of Lucis. Like me.”

Gladio narrowed his eyes. “Come again?”

“Ohh,” a voice called, and Gladio and Noct both jerked to attention, searching the bus for the sound. A hand flopped out from under Iris’ seat, and Noct ran past Gladio to get to them, dropping to his knees. He leaned down and dragged out the odd girl in the charter school uniform, who looked up at Noct with a bleary, dazed expression. 

“Something’s wrong with my head,” she said, in a thick Tenebraean accent. “Had the strangest dream. Who are you?”

“Uh, me?” Noct blinked, and looked up at Gladio for help. Gladio shrugged. “I’m. The Knight.” He lowered his voice. “People call me the Knight.”

“They do?” Gladio asked. 

“Shut up.”

The girl smiled and patted Noct’s hand. “Thank you, my Knight,” she said, and for a second, her smile faltered. “I’m glad you were here to save the day.”

“Thank Gl--the Phoenix,” Noct said, and Gladio raised his hands in protest. 

“Hold on. No one said I agreed to that name.”

“Dude, you can turn into a bird. What else are you?”

“Gladdy?” 

Gladio held his breath. Above Noct and the girl, Iris was shaking herself free of whatever spell had bound her, color flooding into her skin. She opened wide golden eyes to Gladio’s, and Gladio closed the distance between them, never minding the exclamations of the other kids waking up around him, never mind that Noct and the strange girl were watching him as he wept, shoulders shaking, into his little sister’s sensible red jacket. 

 

\---

 

“I can’t believe we _missed_ it.”

Noct sat in stunned silence in the Crownsguard station of upper Insomnia, shoes thumping on the grey tile. Ignis sat next to him, arms crossed, glasses hanging askew off his crooked nose, while Gladio smiled uncertainly at his side and scratched Carbuncle behind the ears. 

“It wasn’t exactly fun,” Gladio said. He lowered his voice to a whisper. “And I think you’ll have to clue me in to… whatever this is. Noct isn’t the best storyteller.”

“He does cut corners,” Ignis said. “How long are they going to _talk_ in there, do you think?”

Noct stared at the recruitment picture on the wall. Luna had called him _my Knight._ She’d touched his hand. Touched it, right there, over his knuckles. It still felt a little warm.

Noct ran his hand over his fingers and smiled. 

“--kind of distracted,” Gladio was saying. 

“Yes, I’m aware,” said someone else. Someone Noct knew. 

She’d actually touched his _hand._

“I’m never washing this hand again,” Noct whispered.

Ignis coughed. Gladio choked down a laugh, and Noct looked up, startled, to see his father standing in front of him, thumbs hooked in his belt loops. 

“That’s a disquieting thought, Noctis,” he said, and heat rose to Noct’s cheeks. “Your mother will be disappointed to hear that.”

“Mom’s what?” Noct asked. Regis pinched the bridge of his nose. 

“I just said--She’ll be here in a week, Noctis. With the rest of the troops from Tenebrae.” Noct glanced at Ignis, who shrugged and raised both hands. 

“What’s going on with Tenebrae?” Noct asked. 

“They’re coming down to celebrate the end of the fighting at the western shore,” Regis said. “And as soon as _this_ business is wrapped up, the Crownsguard are going to meet them… _and_ your mother… so we can escort the prince to Insomnia.”

Ignis, Gladio, and Noctis fell into a heavy, expectant silence, and Noct struggled to clear his throat. 

“The prince?” he asked, in a small voice.

“Yes,” Regis said. “Prince Ravus. Heir to the throne of Tenebrae.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHO IS READY FOR A DRAMATIC DANCE SCENE? EH???


	6. Chapter 6

At the steps of City Hall, where statues of the old kings of Lucis stared out over the city with brass-gilt weapons and blank eyes, Prince Ravus Nox Fleuret was having a bird problem.

"Try not to be so obvious," Ignis whispered to himself, as Gladio, enormous even by hawk standards, plopped awkwardly on the head of the king of light's statue and attempted to groom his foot. Prince Ravus glared at him, eyes narrowed, and Gladio fluffed his feathers, squawking loud enough to wake the dead. 

Ignis groaned.

The prince of Tenebrae didn't look much like anything, in Ignis' opinion. He had long white hair tied back out of his eyes with a ribbon, but he was pretty much all chin, with a square jaw that definitely didn't match his slightly chubby cheeks or fidgeting hands. Gladio squawked again, and Prince Ravus skirted away from him, eyeing him warily.

Ignis sighed and scratched Carbuncle from under the flap of his bag. "What do you think?" he asked. "Is he the man we're looking for?"

Carbuncle squeaked. _Not sure,_ they texted. _We have to get closer._

Up by the stairs, Gladio tried to take off and dipped low to the ground, still unused to his wingspan. Ravus shouted, jumping out of the way, and one of his guards raced over to catch him as Gladio wobbled in an uneven curve around the corner, where he reemerged a minute later as himself, tugging at his jeans.

"Let's just hope Noct has better luck with his mother," Ignis said, and wove through the crowd, hoping to intercept a red-faced Gladio before the prince's security team deemed him too suspicious to live.

 

\---

 

The Insomnia International Airport was busy for a weekday, crammed with people rushing through moving walkways and hopping over crowds to get a look at departure times. The high windows were dotted with bird nests, and a spike stuck out in the middle of the baggage claim like a massive sundial, tilted worryingly to the side. Nestled on a bench in its shade, Noct slumped in his ill-fitting suit and jostled a bouquet of grocery store flowers.

"It's perfectly normal for her to be late," his dad was saying, for probably the hundredth time. Noct hadn't gotten much sleep the night before--between texting Iggy and Gladio about the _prince_ popping up in Insomnia and frantically cleaning his room, he'd crashed sometime around four--but Regis looked like he hadn't slept in _years._ He kept messing with his hair, taking out his phone to check his baggy eyes, and, when Noct couldn't dodge fast enough, occasionally tried to smooth out the rumpled shoulders of Noct's suit.

"Dad, you know they have, like, a million checklists to go through," Noct said. Regis just frowned, jiggling his good leg. His trick knee was acting up again, which meant he had to wear a bulky brace under his suit, and Noct could tell it was bugging him. "You look fine, Dad."

"What? Oh." Regis coughed and ran his hands through his hair again. "Do you think I should have shaved?"

"You're good," Noct said, sinking another inch into his suit. "Promise."

A soldier in Lucian grey stepped through the terminal gate, and Regis sat up, looking almost as eager as Carbuncle on a bike ride. He straightened his tie. Then he straightened it again. Then, when his fingers inched dangerously close to the knot, threatening to redo the tie completely, Noct coughed.

"There she is," Regis said, eyeing the oncoming crowd of soldiers. He stood, upending his coffee thermos, and Noct lunged to catch it as Regis hobbled jerkily across the tile.

"Reggie!" 

Noct's fingers slipped on the thermos, and it went rolling under the bench. He looked up just in time to see his mom lift his dad up off the ground in a bear hug that probably squeezed the life out of him. They made an odd pair, Noct thought, as Regis kissed his wife's cheek and let her wobble the two of them a few steps along the walkway. Aulea was short and broad at the shoulders, with perfect makeup that just broke regulations and a styled bob, while Regis was a tall, lanky guy with a scruffy beard and a tie that was definitely about to choke him. The other soldiers whistled and clapped as they finally broke apart, and when Aulea smiled, it was like Noct was looking into a mirror.

"Now," Aulea boomed, in her best Mom _and_ commander voice all rolled into one. "Where's my precious boy?"

"Oh gods," Noct muttered, as all of her war buddies smirked and glanced his way. He sank down on the bench. 

"Where's my baby?" Aulea bellowed. "Where is he?"

"'M here, Mom," Noct whispered.

"Where?" Oh, no, she was doing _the thing_ again. She approached with her arms out, grinning. "Not this _man_ dressed all nice like an actual human being?" 

"Hey, Mom," Noct said, pushing the flowers to safety before he, too, was lifted into his mother's arms. Regis laughed behind his hand like an utter traitor, and Noct, too embarrassed to care what the snickering soldiers thought of him, wrapped his arms around his mother's shoulders.

"Missed you," he said, soft enough that only she could hear. Aulea rubbed his back, and Noct dropped to the floor, beet red and just a little tearful. "Is the... Is the prince with you?"

"Astrals," Regis said, hooking an arm around Aulea's elbow. "Don't get him started, Aulea. He and his friends have been obsessed over this Prince Ravus all week."

"Really?" Aulea smiled at Noct sidelong. "Got something to tell us, Noct?"

"Mom, _no._ "

"Well, I suppose he's handsome enough, in a teen idol kind of way. I can see the appeal."

"Mom!" Noct covered his face with both hands, and his parents suppressed knowing smiles. Before they could actually start grilling him on his love life for real, Noct picked up the thermos and flowers, hiding behind a spray of roses while his mom and dad flirted like massive, embarrassing _dorks,_ giggling and whispering to each other while Noct lagged behind.

"Reggie says you have some new friends," Aulea said, when they were all packed into the car. "I'd love to meet them sometime."

Noct grunted noncommittally. 

"Speak up, Noct," Regis said, and Noct sighed. "Sorry, Aulea. He's going through a phase."

"Oh, baby," Aulea said, and twisted around to pat Noct on the knee. "We'll talk it over when we get home."

"There's nothing _to_ talk over," Noct protested.

"Really?" Aulea said, and for a moment, Noct panicked. He'd forgotten how insightful his mom could be, and wondered frantically how he was supposed to sneak out and fight daemons with a mom who could pretty much read his mind with her back turned. Her gaze softened, and she patted Noct on the knee. 

"When you're ready, then," she said, which just made Noct feel worse.

Carbuncle was a hit, of course, back from recon with Ignis and Gladio and hamming it up on their new cat bed. Aulea fawned over them for a good half hour, carrying Carbuncle around on her shoulders while she got used to the house again. Windows opened. Curtains were tied up. The bathroom, which had become a disaster in her absence, was left to Noct to clean, and they ordered burgers from the artisan place down the street. They all collapsed together in the living room, surrounded by takeout boxes, and Aulea wrapped an arm around Noct's shoulder just like she used to, like nothing had changed.

"Mom," Noct whispered, as two people on TV started dancing on fire escapes, their shoes just masking the light snoring from the other side of the couch. "Something happened the other week."

"Mm?" His mother smiled down at him, and the words lodged in his throat. 

"Nothing," Noct choked. "Just. Maybe met a girl."

"Oh?"

"Uh. Online," Noct said, struggling for something that was close enough to the truth without setting off alarm bells. "But also in person. She, um. She likes the online me, I guess."

"Does she know you're the same person?" Aulea asked. Noct didn't answer. "Noctis."

Noct slumped in the couch, and his mother squeezed his shoulders. "Maybe I can invite her to that thing," Noct said, miserably. "The dance. The one you're going to."

"Oh, Noct. It's a military ball."

"I'm pretty much military, right?" Noct asked. "Between you and Dad? And Uncle Cor?"

Aulea sighed. "I'm sorry, baby," she said. "But how about this? I'll drive you and your... _friend_ to the theme park this weekend. And I won't chaperone." She crossed her heart. "On my honor."

Noct flashed her a salute. "Thanks, Commander Mom."

"Any time, citizen," Aulea said, and turned up the volume. "Oh, I love this one, don't you?"

Noct watched the two characters dance on the roof of a high-rise, with a ridiculously large moon rising at their back. One woman had a large, flowing gown with ruffles to her waist, and the other was in a slinky dress, glittering like starlight. Noct watched his mother gaze at the screen, and when he looked down, he saw that her other hand was on Regis', their fingers perfectly entwined.

 

\---

 

The night of Prince Ravus' ball came too quickly for Noct, who barely had time to come up with a good reason not to watch the house while his parents left in their pressed-uniforms and silver masks. He took off for the East City Ballroom by bike, Carbuncle barking from the basket while sweat ran down his back and soaked his jogging pants. The guys were all waiting for him in the alley, Gladio looking askance while Ignis frantically texted on his phone.

"Someone tried to sneak in as a cat," Ignis said, and Gladio shrugged.

"You can do that?" Noct asked.

"Kind of," Gladio said. "Still working on it."

"He got stuck halfway," Ignis said, tipping up his glasses. "It's... almost exactly what you'd imagine."

"Like, are we talking furry levels," Noct said, "or--"

"WE'RE DONE HERE," Gladio barked. "CARBUNCLE. PLEASE."

Carbuncle hopped out of Noct's basket. They all checked their phones as the fox walked in a short circle, horn glowing faintly.

 _We'd better go in disguise,_ they said. _And what better disguise to a masked ball than your uniforms?_

"I don't have one," Gladio pointed out.

 _Sure you do,_ Carbuncle said. _Noct, say the words._

"Right," Noct said, and cleared his throat. "For Lucis, and the king."

There was a swift rush of wind. Noct closed his eyes, letting the light wrap around him, and when he looked up again, Ignis was in his uniform, visor flipped down over his eyes, and Gladio was in a black suit with a long cape, which was made of a dozen strips of leather with delicate gold piping. It moved like the wings of a bird as he twisted around, and he smiled cautiously, admiring the way they just scraped his ankles.

"Okay," Noct said, and raised his hands to his mask. "You guys ready to crash a party, or what?"

It was painfully easy to sneak in. The windows of the janitor's office weren't bugged, and Gladio knew how to jimmy open anything short of a safe door, so they were all skulking through the halls before the first song started playing from the main ballroom. 

"It's so empty," Ignis whispered, as they slunk through the shadows. "You'd think they'd have guards."

"Tenebrae's pretty small," Gladio said. "Maybe he doesn't need 'em."

"He does if he's the prince we're looking for," Noct said, and they all fell silent, their footsteps echoing along the tiled hall. 

"What if..." Ignis scratched at his cheek, just under the visor. "What will we do if he is the one? Will he have to... cleanse the daemons again?"

Noct stopped, a hand creeping up his chest. He could feel the ghost of an ache there, a pain that pushed at his lungs. "Cleanse them how?" he whispered.

"The usual way," Ignis said, his voice equally soft. "The way he did before."

"No," Gladio said, and Noct turned, surprised by the vehemence in his voice. "We won't let it happen this time. Not again."

"Of course," Ignis said, and for a second, frozen there in the dark hallway, Noct was overcome with an emotion he couldn't quite place, a rising tide that carried him forward without a word. He placed a hand on each of their shoulders, and felt the cloth of their uniforms wrinkle under his fingers. 

"It's gonna be okay," he said, and they blinked at him, startled. "I promise."

When he turned away, there was a lift to his shoulders there hadn't been before, and his face felt different, the shape of it changed with the weight of that promise. When they made it to the doors of the ballroom, the guards who waited there didn't give Noct more than an astonished look before letting him through.

The ballroom was a dazzling chaos of crystal and silver, of blue dresses drifting across the floor, of straight backs and bright, forced smiles. Noct looked out over the dance floor and stuck his hands in his pockets.

"Always hated this kind of thing," he said.

"What?" Ignis asked. Noct frowned, searching the crowd for the white-haired prince.

"Nothing," he said. "Let's divide and conquer."

"Gladio's already on that," Ignis said dryly, inclining his head towards a gaggle of young Tenebraean nobles. Gladio had insinuated himself in the middle of them, flashing a winning smile, and Noct had a suspicion that more than one of them were going to go home with a hopeless crush and a fake number. "If he gets kicked out for making out with someone in a corner somewhere--"

"Focus, Iggy," Noct said, and Ignis' gaze snapped back to him, a wrinkle forming between his brows. "You take the left side, I take the right. The prince has to be here somewhere. Carbuncle?"

 _Already gone,_ Carbuncle texted. _No one'll see me with all these huge skirts everywhere. They're very distracting, though. Look how they move!_

"Oh, Astrals, please don't attack the nobility," Ignis whispered, and fled into the crowd, scouring the floor for a sign of Carbuncle's swishing tail. Noct sighed and adjusted his mask again.

Well, that left him to find the prince. Wonderful. He stepped into the crowd, sidling away from massive skirts, avoiding polished boots, dodging elbows. It was hard to tell anyone apart, to see past the glittering masks and wigs and costumes to anything else, and Noct was almost ready to throw in the towel when he felt two fingers tap his shoulder. 

"Excuse me," said a careful, lightly accented voice at his back. Noct turned, thrown off balance by a rogue elbow, and looked down at a pair of white sneakers under a voluminous, puffy ballgown. 

"Excuse me," said the voice again, and Noct looked up into the white mask of the notorious vigilante of Lucis, standing with her gloved hands on her hips and a white wig fixed to her brow with a band. "Should you be here?"

Noct swallowed around a suddenly very dry throat, and raised a shaking hand to the Princess.

"Sure," he said, and the Princess tilted her head, the curls of her wig falling over her shoulder. His hand was heavy as an iron rod, hovering between them. "How about a dance?" 

His voice cracked on the way out, but the Princess just regarded him somberly, her eyes hidden behind the mesh of her mask. Then she smiled, and Noct's stomach flipped, the ballroom lurching around him in a whirl of color and light.

"Of-of course," the Princess said, and for a second, her own voice seemed to break. She cleared her throat and took his hand in hers. "I'd be honored."


	7. Chapter 7

Military balls were never exactly known for the skill of their dancers. The people who crowded the dance floor of Prince Ravus' welcome party were largely of the twist and shuffle school of dance, with a few rogue elements trying to twirl off in the corner, and the prince himself stayed put in a gaggle of officers, watching the crowd with a wary eye. As such, when the two figures in the center of the ballroom took each other's hands, a ripple of confusion ran through the party, a hush muffling the murmur of voices and clink of glasses. People started backing up, leaving space in astonished silence as a boy in a glorious black cape and a girl in white whirled each other across the floor in a dance that had fallen out of style centuries before.

Noct didn't see the crowd giving way before him. He didn't see any of it, not the lights, not the crowd, not even his own feet as he walked the Princess through the steps of a dance that felt as natural as breathing, the body taking over while the mind focused on other things.

Like palm sweat.

Noct didn't know a single person could produce as much palm sweat as he was experiencing at that exact moment, with a hand on the Princess' hip and another stuck to her glove like some sort of swamp creature from the Slough. Could she tell? Was she too horrified to say anything? He looked up into the blank eyes of her mask, and she flashed him a stunning smile. 

"What brings you here?" she asked. Her voice was pitched low, with an affected Lucian accent that almost sounded fake, the consonants too clearly pronounced. 

"Checking out the prince," Noct said, and her mouth opened slightly. "Thought he might, uh, might be the one."

The Princess didn't answer for a moment. Noct released her from his sticky embrace to let her spin, and the crowd applauded. She twirled back into his arms, and he staggered, thrown off. 

"He's certainly _a_ prince," she said, "but I doubt he's the one."

"Then why are _you_ here?" Noct asked.

"Keeping an eye on the real prince," she said, and Noct's breath hitched in his throat. "He's... around, and he has a bad habit of getting himself in trouble."

"Where?" Noct craned to look over her shoulder. "If you know who he is--"

"He’s not _here_ here,” she said hurriedly, as though that made any sense at all. “Let him enjoy himself for a little while. You and your friends should stay back. I've been protecting the prince for almost a year, now. He’ll be fine."

"And who's protecting you?" Noct asked. The Princess raised her brows, and they fell out of step in the dance, stumbling into the crowd. Applause washed over them as the Princess slipped free of Noct's hands a second time, her face flushed pink.

"I don't... No one needs to--"

"I know you have it handled, but you don't have to do this alone," Noct said. 

The Princess was almost beet red, her hands inching towards her mask. "That was a lovely dance," she squeaked, in a high, definitely _Tenebraean_ accent. "Excuse me."

"Wait!" Noct lurched forward, but the Princess was already slipping into the crowd, her white dress flashing between astonished dancers until it disappeared from sight. Noct groaned and rubbed the back of his neck, which was clammy and cold with all the excess sweat his hands hadn't already produced.

"What a mess," he said.

"Yeah, you can call it that," said a voice over his shoulder. Noct turned, and looked up into the scowling face of a man in Crownsguard black. _Shit._ He opened his mouth to protest, but the man was already grabbing him by the arm, towing him out of the crowd.

"Is it happening again?" the man asked, in a low, frantic voice. "Is one of them here?"

Noct squinted. The guy was pretty gangly for a Crownsguard, even a rookie, and there was something about his face that made Noct uneasy. He stepped back, then blinked as realization dawned.

"You're the kid in the alley!" he said. The guy waved his hands for Noct to keep his voice down. "What are you doing dressed like a Crownsguard?"

"I am one," he said. Noct snorted. "No, really. The guy I... The guy you rescued was pretty grateful, okay? I got kind of put on the accelerated program. But that's not the point. Is something going down here?"

"I don't think so," Noct said. "More like a false lead."

"Thank gods." The guy breathed out heavily. "Bad enough that I keep seeing that Princess floating around. Now you..."

"You've been seeing the Princess?" Noct asked. He looked the guy up and down. “How often?"

"I don't know, off and on. She's always patrolling the Galahdian district." The guy shrugged. "How many of you are there?"

Noct rocked back on his heels. The Princess said she'd been protecting the Prince this whole time, hadn't she? And he had been right there on Noct's first mission... And, well. He did kind of _look_ like a prince, or the ones in the movies, the ones who spent most of the time swinging a sword and looking tragic. Not that Noct cared. Or noticed. 

"What's your name?" Noct asked, before his brain could self-destruct in a panic.

"Nyx." He gave Noct a curious look. “You okay? You’re sure there aren’t any, uh, weird monsters lurking around, right?”

“Uh-huh,” Noct said.

Nyx’s frown came back, thin and pensive, and the way his eyes seemed to sparkle when he was _scowling_ was painfully unfair on too many levels to count. 

“Noct!” 

Noct turned, and Nyx’s brows rose. “Uh, that’s not me,” Noct said, in a stilted, leaden voice. “I definitely don’t know anyone by that name.”

“Noct, don’t be a fool, there’s--” Ignis emerged from the crowd, looking flushed and entirely out of sorts, and stopped dead at the sight of Nyx. “Oh.”

“Let me help you find him,” Noct said, grabbing Ignis by the arm. “Noct, I mean. Who I don’t know. And am... not.”

“Right,” Nyx said. 

“Oh gods, kill me,” Noct whispered, dragging Ignis into the crowd. 

“I’m so sorry,” Ignis said. “I keep forgetting we have code names. There’s a problem, N--Knight. The prince is gone.”

“Yeah, well, the prince isn’t even the prince,” Noct said. Ignis gave him a look, and he shrugged. “Long story.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Ignis said. He walked briskly through the crowd, chin up, looking like a courtier with all the assurance that the lowly peasants around him had nothing better to do than give way. “Someone came up to Prince Ravus a minute ago and dragged him off. Gladio’s tailing them--He says he has a bad feeling about it, and I’m inclined to trust Gladio’s opinion.”

Noct pushed down the weight of fear in his chest, letting it roll about as he and Ignis navigated the ballroom. “You don’t think…”

“I don’t know what to think,” Ignis said. “Let’s just hope we aren’t too late.”

They found Carbuncle sitting by an open door, tail bristled in alarm, and raced past him, tripping down a set of narrow stairs. Noct’s shoulder kept bumping into Ignis’, and they nearly fell twice before they reached the bottom, where Gladio was leaning against a door, peering out through the gap. 

Ignis made a sign, and Gladio gestured in response, ushering them over. Noct looked out from under Gladio’s shoulder, and Ignis sighed and ducked under Noct’s, all of them squinting into the dark as Prince Ravus Nox Fleuret leaned against a storage crate, breathing heavily.

“Can't,” he said, in a ragged voice. He clutched at his left arm, fingers curled tight, and there was an odd light in his eyes, a ring of violet around wide pupils. “Not making the same mistake twice.”

“Of course you won't,” said another voice. This one was lower, almost musical, dipping and rising, and Noct felt a chill settle over him as Ravus looked up, head jerking like a marionette.

“You won't fail me this time,” the voice continued. Beneath Noct, Ignis was shaking, hands clenched on the floor. “You have so much more to lose; Your mother, your father, your dear little sister… How is she, by the by? I haven't seen hide nor hair of her in the news in years--”

“Don't--” Ravus choked out, and closed his eyes. “I’m not--”

Noct had seen enough. He wriggled out from between Ignis and Gladio, stumbling to his feet with his cape twisted up between his legs, his mask knocked slightly askew. He fixed it, glaring into the dark corners of the room, but all he could see was an astonished Prince Ravus.

“What's this?” asked the voice. Noct shuddered, and the darkness seemed to twist, shaping itself around Ravus in a great cloud. Noct summoned his sword, and laughter rang through the dry, cramped room. 

“Oh, and he has _friends!_ ” the voice cried, as Gladio and Ignis barreled through the door. Carbuncle clawed up to Noct’s shoulders, fur standing on end, and Gladio’s arms rippled with feathers, threatening to change. Ignis summoned his knives, and Noct stepped forward, his sword dropping into his hand. He slashed at the smoke surrounding Ravus, and jerked as a heavy hand closed over the blade, holding him down. Above him, two bright, golden spots of light gleamed out from the smoke, and laughter rumbled through the air. Noct crouched before them, unable to look away, as Gladio charged in, over twenty pounds of Altissian Forest Cat in brown and gold, clawing at the dark. The gold lights flickered, and Ignis raced past them both, hand to his visor, shoving his shoulder against a narrow door in the back.

“Something’s controlling it!” he shouted. “The smoke’s coming from out…” He slammed against the door again, and the mass of shadow swung towards him. 

“Clever boy,” said the voice. “But you’re too late. Ravus?”

From within the smoke, Ravus’ voice came out thin and strained. “Yes, Chancellor.”

“Chancellor?” Ignis asked, but he was cut off by Gladio’s strangled shout as the hand around Noct’s sword solidified, blood dripping down a slim, exposed forearm. Ravus stepped out of the darkness, but there was an edge to his smile Noct hadn’t seen before, a sneer that twisted his face. Noct looked down at his sword, which was cutting into Ravus’ palm, and tried to jerk it away without taking off his hand. Ravus only bore down harder, squeezing the blade in his fingers.

“I know _you,_ ” Ravus said. “I’ve seen you before.”

“No you don’t!” a voice called from behind them. Noct twisted round just in time to miss being smacked in the face with three feet of taffeta as the Princess tackled Ravus into the wall, her white sneakers flying. She jabbed the rod of a massive silver trident under his chin, and Ravus thrashed, scrabbling at it for leverage. Her curls hung over Ravus’ face, so Noct couldn’t see his reaction as light started to flow from the spikes on the Princess’ trident, steady as the beat of a heart. Every time the smoke tried to reach her, the trident pulsed, making the darkness shy back. 

“Noct, the door!” Ignis shouted. Noct looked from the Princess to Ravus, then back to Ignis. 

“Go,” the Princess said. “I’ve got this.”

Noct ran for the door. Between him and Ignis, they managed to shove the door open, and Gladio bounded past them, yowling down the twisting hallway. They followed Ignis’ frantic pointing down the hall, Carbuncle squeaking in Noct’s ear, until they reached a thin crack in the stone floor. Ignis skidded to a halt with a low groan. 

“It’s underground,” he said, and slapped at it, dispersing a thin wisp of smoke. “Whatever it is. And it’s fading.”

Gladio scrabbled at the crack, trying to widen it with his claws, and hissed as light burst through the hallway from where they’d come, brilliant and white. 

“The Princess,” Noct said, and scrambled around Ignis to race back for the storage room. 

The Princess was already gone by the time Noct burst into the room, wild-eyed and frantic. Prince Ravus was fine, at least, lying on his side in the middle of the room, a strip of white cloth bundled under his head as a makeshift pillow. Noct pulled it free, letting Ravus’ head thunk on the floor, and examined the cloth while Ignis checked Ravus’ pulse.

“A chancellor, huh?” Gladio asked, rising to as much of his human form as he could manage. He stared down at the bushy tail that still swayed at his back, and pawed at it. “Could this be the _Master_ from last time?”

“Maybe,” Ignis said. “ _Something_ has been searching for the prince, at least. Which means we don’t have much time.”

“You’re right.” There was a sylleblossom stitched into the cloth, made of a faint blue thread that shimmered in the light. “We need to find the prince first. But it looks like someone already knows where he is.” He smiled grimly at the others, and tucked the cloth under his arm. “Look’s like we’re gonna have to track down a princess.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up: Prompto!


	8. Chapter 8

It wasn't that Noct didn't love his parents. He did. It was just that when the two of them got together, they managed to hone over forty years of friendship into pure, concentrated embarrassment. Something about Noct's mom had his dad breaking out the running sneakers and fanny pack, never mind that he had to go home an hour later and break out the _cane,_ and Noct's mom had a bad habit of trying to carry his dad in her arms when his knee started acting up anyways. And when they weren't mooning over each other like a pair of college students, they were laser-focused on Noct. 

Which was why Noct, when he was roped into an early morning walk to the farmer's market, hung back a good ten feet out of sheer shame, which also meant that he was walking just a shade too slow to miss the car screeching his way across the intersection, horn blaring.

"Watch it!"

Noct winced as something struck his back hard, sending him reeling across the street. Spindly arms wrapped around his middle, and he twisted to look up into a freckled face, blue eyes wide in concern.

"Hey," his rescuer said. "You okay?"

"Uh," Noct said. They were almost close enough for their noses to touch. He had a sudden, inexplicable urge to push his cheeks together, and silently thanked the gods that his arms were pinned too tight to move.

"That was a close one," the guy said.

"Uh," Noct said again. The guy frowned and sat back on his heels, and Noct pushed himself up, wincing as his head spun. "I mean, thanks. That was..."

"It's okay," the guy said, and jerked back as Regis and Aulea came clattering up, wrapping Noct in their arms. "Um, looks like you're good, huh?"

"Baby!" Aulea said. "My dumb precious baby, what were you thinking?" The guy snorted, and she turned on him. "Thank you so much. What's your name?"

He opened his mouth for a second. "P-Prompto."

"Prompto. Thank you," Aulea said. 

"Quick thinking," Regis said, extending a hand. Prompto took it, looking a little dazed. "Give it a few years, and we can use a man like you on the force."

"Gods, darling, no recruiting." Aulea pushed Noct's hair back so she could kiss his temple. "Prompto. Let us repay you--Reg, Noct and I are going to the farmer's market now, we can always treat you--"

"Oh, no," Prompto said. "I don't need a reward. Honest."

"Don't be humble," Aulea said, and dragged Noct to his feet. "We'd love to."

There was no denying Noct's parents when they put on the charm, so before Prompto could stammer out a protest, he was being pulled along, drifting at Noct's side while Regis and Aulea went over a play-by-play of his daring rescue.

"You'll be saving orphans next," Noct whispered, and Prompto grinned. "Sorry about them. They go kind of overboard sometimes."

"No," Prompto said, rubbing the back of his neck. "No, it's... It's nice. You have a pretty cool family, Noct."

"In their dreams," Noct said, but Prompto had a wistful look in his eyes as he watched Aulea wind an arm through Regis', letting her carry the weight of his bad leg. "But, um. They're nice, yeah. Why haven't I seen you around before? What school do you go to?"

"Homeschooled," Prompto said. "Well, sort of. They're online classes, pretty much."

Noct shoved his hands in his pockets. "You play any mmo's?"

Prompto's entire face seemed to light up. "Yeah! King's Knight, actually."

"Really? What's your handle?"

It didn't take long for what started out as a trip to the farmer's market to turn into a detour for Noct and Prompto to spend what savings they had at the arcade while Regis and Aulea browsed the bookstore next door. Prompto was an expert at the first person shooters, and he and Noct got so caught up in the racing simulators that they didn't even realize Noct's parents were waiting at the door for a good half hour. 

"Dude," Noct said, as he and Prompto stumbled out of the simulation box. "That was the best score I've ever seen."

"Whatever, man," Prompto said, but his freckles disappeared behind a pink flush that spread over his cheeks, and he swiped at the back of Noct's head. "You up for King's Knight tonight?"

"Sure!" Noct pulled out his phone. "Trade numbers?"

Noct's parents waited in silence as Noct tripped back up to them, stopping to wave at Prompto. Prompto waved back, grinning wide, and skipped off down the street. 

"Hm," Aulea said, leaning down to murmur in Noct's ear. "Looks like that girl you met might have some competition."

"Mom!" Noct croaked.

"What?" Aulea pinched Noct's cheek. "My little man can't be a charmer?"

"Oh my gods," Noct said. "Dad. Stop her."

Regis raised both hands. "I'm afraid you're on your own, Noct."

Noct groaned faintly as his parents cackled, and went back to his slumping shuffle behind them, too mortified to live.

 

\---

 

Across town, in the small, well-furnished apartment he called home, Prompto Argentum made dinner.

He used a large pan just in case, sizzling with onion and garlic, and played a podcast on the counter as he pushed cuts of steak around. A cat clock on the wall wagged its tail in time, and stuffed dog plushes littered the house, peeking out of jars and vases and propped up on bookends. The only thing that hinted that someone other than Prompto lived there were the boots at the door, the neat handwritten notes on the fridge, and the two extra tupperware containers next to the oven.

Prompto set two cuts aside to cool, scraped some potatoes from another pot onto his plate, and took the biggest steak with a heavy knife that probably wasn't meant for it. Then he sat down at the table and propped his phone up on the centerpiece. 

“Hey, Dad,” he said. The voice to text software started up, and he cleared his throat. “I made a new friend today. He was… He’s pretty nice.” 

The cat clock ticked. Upstairs, the neighbors started banging around, chasing after their cat. Prompto sent the text, turned to a music app, and, when the front door remained untouched and the driveway empty of headlights, started sawing away at his steak.

 

\---

 

“I don't know what's wrong with this city,” Noct’s dad said in the living room, while Noct ate cold mac and cheese with salsa in a paper bowl, perched on the worn computer chair while his elven character did squats over a dead orc. “First those girls going missing at the shrine, then all these animal attacks, the prince being attacked at his own ball--”

“You know the news just tries to get people worked up, love,” Aulea said. “Who ever heard of a murderer dressed up as a bride? It's like a horror movie.”

“Yeah, well, tell that to the folks at dispatch.”

Noct bounced up and down a few more times where the orc had fallen, then navigated his character over to the respawn site. The orc popped back up, and a puking emoji flashed over his head.

“Dude,” Prompto said, over the headphones. “Rude.”

“Don't pretend you won't do it to me,” Noct said, and grinned at Prompto’s answering laugh. He had a nice laugh. A little wild, maybe, but familiar. “Wanna do the warden quest? I’ve got some friends who should be waiting for us there.”

“I’m so underleveled, bro, but okay.”

They switched servers, spawning in a poorly-rendered dungeon where Ignis’ character, a pirate class gunslinger labeled Balthier, waited for them. “Nice bunny ears attachment,” Noct said. “Where’s Gladio?”

“AFK,” Ignis typed. A little ways away, a bunny woman with ridiculous breasts stood at a save point. “Babysitting Iris.”

“Then we’ll go in now,” Noct said. “We’ll be fine, right?”

They were anything but. Ignis’ parents disconnected his computer from the Internet an hour in, which left Prompto and Noct to scream their way through a horde of spiders and goblins, barely even stopping for loot. When Prompto ran out of phoenix downs and Noct drained his mana, they bailed for the merchant server, where they huddled in a corner and took stock of their loot.

“I’m never doing that again,” Prompto said.

“Same time tomorrow?” Noct asked.

“Sure!”

Noct took off his headphones, smiling fit to burst, and turned to find his parents watching him from the couch, Carbuncle curled up between them. “What?”

Aulea sighed. “Noct,” she said, and Noct narrowed his eyes. Had he forgotten to take out the trash again? “Reg and I were talking, and we think it’ll be best to establish a curfew for a while. With all the trouble happening downtown…”

“Mom, I don't really go out.”

“Caught you sneaking out last week, kiddo,” Aulea said. “I know you wouldn't get yourself involved in anything dangerous, but with all the disappearances--”

“Okay,” Noct said, praying that his parents couldn't see the lie on his face. “I’ll just stay in and play mmo’s with Prompto ‘til I’m in college.”

“Don't test us,” Regis said. “So long as we’re clear.”

“Crystal,” Noct said, and gave Carbuncle a look. Carbuncle hopped off the couch and trotted over, yawning wide. 

Noct retreated to his bedroom, where he dropped to the bed with a sigh. “Now what?” he asked. “Can't sneak around looking for the Princess when Mom’s got eagle eyes.”

 _We’ll find a way,_ Carbuncle texted. _Have heart._

Noct sighed and scratched Carbuncle’s ears as he lay back, staring at the cut-out stars on his ceiling. He wondered if his parents ever felt like this, stretched in a hundred directions, wobbling from one thing to the next, never really sticking to one or the other. He thought of Prompto pushing him out of the way of the car. Ignis smiling through his braces. Gladio snuggling Carbuncle. Luna calling him her _knight._ The way she’d smiled at him… The warmth of her hand in his…

Prompto’s freckles moving as he smiled--

Noct groaned, covered his face with a pillow, and screamed into it. Carbuncle jumped on his chest, clearly alarmed, and Noct pulled the pillow away just enough so they could hear.

“It's fine, Carbuncle,” he said. “I’m just going through puberty, I guess. _Again._ ”

“Um.” Noct shrieked into the pillowcase, rolled over, and clattered to the floor. Someone yelled from downstairs, and Noct looked up to find the Princess perched on the roof outside his window, face pale in the dark.

“Noct?” his dad called.

“Nothing!” Noct shouted. “Fell off the bed playing Pokemon! Going to sleep!”

His parents’ laughter drifted up the stairs, and Noct looked up at the Princess. He was suddenly painfully aware of the fact that he was wearing his faded Teenage Mutant Ninja Chocobo pajamas from sixth grade, his hair was probably a mess, and his dirty underwear was draped over his books, just lying there for anyone to see.

He went fumbling for the window, holding the pillow to his midsection as he hauled up the bottom panel. “Hey. Hey. Hi.”

“I’m so sorry,” the Princess said. “I just. Is this a bad time?”

“What? No. No, just doing homework,” Noct said. Carbuncle jumped up to the window, and the Princess scratched them behind the ears. “What are you--” he lowered his voice. “What are you d--wait. You know who I am.”

“Of course I…” The Princess froze. “I mean, it's. Part of my powers. My dogs can see the future.”

Noct scrunched up his face. “Huh.”

“And, I. I just. There's something happening downtown, and I may need… help,” she said. “Would you like to come with me?”

“Gnuh,” Noct said, and cleared his throat. “Yeah. Sure. One sec.” He glanced down at Carbuncle. “Can you do anything to distract Mom and Dad? Keep them from coming up here?”

Carbuncle blinked lazily and slid back down to the floor. Then they shook out their ears, and the ruby horn started to glow, sending a ray of light towards the bed. The sheets shifted, and a blurry image of Noctis appeared there, curled up on his side. _Like this? :3_

“Show off,” Noct said, and winked. “Thanks, buddy.” He stepped back, shoved a towel under the crack in the door, and whispered under his breath. Light enveloped him, lifting him off his feet as his uniform materialized, new and crisp and definitely free of bulky chocobos. The Princess stared at him, her cheeks pink, and scraped a hand over her face. 

“Ready,” Noct said.

“That's. I never saw it from the outside before,” she said. She scooted back as Noct climbed out of the window, and dropped feather-light onto the grass below. A pair of dogs waited for her there, one grey, one white, pushing up against her massive dress for pets. 

Noct scrambled down a little less delicately, and crouched to greet the dogs. They shoved each other for space as he tried to pet them both at once, and the Princess smiled, covering her mouth with a hand.

“I hate to break it up,” she said, “but downtown…”

“Oh.” Noct stood. “Right. Should I call the others?”

“Not yet,” the Princess said. She took off down the street, walking fast. Noct trotted to keep up. “There have been a rash of disappearances lately. People are saying it’s a ghost doing it--A woman in a wedding dress, knocking on doors in the middle of the night. If she catches you, she takes you back to her lair and…” The Princess grimaced. “It isn't pretty. But I can't seem to find her. It looks like she’s only making herself visible to men, which means, well…” 

“She’s a sexist ghost,” Noct said. The Princess covered her mouth with both hands, but she couldn't stifle the bark of laughter. “What? She isn't?”

“Maybe aggressively heterosexual?” the Princess said, choking down a giggle.

“I hate those,” Noct said. “Move with the times, murder-bride.”

The Princess giggled into her hands again, tried to compose herself, looked at Noct, snorted, and burst into a helpless laugh. Noct grinned at her, shoved his hands in his pockets, and picked up the pace, his feet as light as air.

 

\---

 

Prompto pushed aside his math book and propped his feet up on the coffee table. The TV flickered, the sitcom on the screen freezing and stuttering and pixelating, and Prompto flipped his phone in his hands.

“Hey, Dad,” he said, into the empty room. “So that guy I met today, we was pretty cool. We even played King’s Knight together, and he. You know that guy I used to talk about? The dream guy?” 

His phone remained dark and unresponsive. In front of him, the TV turned off altogether with a soft hiss.

“Looks kind of like him,” Prompto whispered.

The front door rattled on its hinges, and Prompto dropped his phone.

“Dad?” he asked. The handle twisted a little, and Prompto pushed himself to his feet. He left his phone where it was, and raced for the door, stopping only to fix his wild hair. 

“Dad!” he said, pulling open the door with a grin. “You're home early!”

He stopped, frozen in place, one hand on the door frame. Slim fingers brushed over Prompto’s cheek, and he looked into the white eyes of the most beautiful woman in the universe.

“Hello,” she said, and the world sank around her, melting around the edges like so much paint. “I’m looking for my fiancé.” She smiled, revealing rows of sharp, pointed teeth. “Do you think you can help me?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The villain of the week this time is *checks notes* compulsory heterosexuality.


End file.
